


Dial O for Orgasm

by MechBull



Series: Dial O [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, hints of bi!Jemma, i'm a liar, or at least porn strung together by very little plot, this is plot heavy AND eventually porn heavy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 05:49:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 54,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3680325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechBull/pseuds/MechBull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma stepped closer, reading the fine print. The job was offering 20 dollars (<i>20 dollars!</i>) an hour, simply to man phones at a sex hotline. Goodness – Jemma was a biologist; she could explain to some confused college students how to put on a condom. She could certainly do it for <i>twenty dollars an hour</i>. She pulled one of the tags with the phone number printed on it off the bottom of the flyer. </p><p>(You can thank and/or blame typhanni/notapepper for this AU prompt too.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notapepper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notapepper/gifts).



Fitz looked up in surprise as Simmons dropped into the seat next to him with a huff.

“What’s wrong?” Skye asked before he could.

Simmons shook her head, looking simultaneously like she wanted to scream obscenities and like she wanted to start crying. “That class I was supposed to teach this summer? Didn’t get a large enough enrollment. They’re cancelling it.”

“Oh, that sucks,” Trip said. 

Simmons threw her hands up in the air. “That was my only source of income for the next several months.” She glanced at Fitz, and he tried to offer her a supportive, understanding smile. He wondered if it would be weird to reach over and rub her back. “You know how it is, all the rules about foreign citizens and work visas and everything. I won’t even be able to get a part-time thing.”

“What about something under the table? Waitressing or something?” Skye suggested. 

“I guess, maybe.” Simmons sighed. “I think they’re raising my rent too.”

Fitz tried to think of something to say, something that would make her feel better and smile at him. He was tongue-tied, though, which was hardly unusual. So much for being a genius. 

“Can your parents help you out?” Trip asked.

Both Fitz and Simmons stared across the table at him like he had grown an extra head. Honestly. Didn’t Trip know Simmons at all? She would never – 

“I would never ask them. I don’t care how much money they have. I’m an adult woman, and I’m going to do this on my own.”

To prove them wrong, Fitz added in his head. He had heard the whole rant many times before. 

Simmons sighed again, loudly. Then she looked at her watch. “Anyway. I have a seminar. I’ll see you guys later.”

As she stood and walked away, Trip and Skye said their goodbyes, and Fitz finally managed to find his voice.

“Hey,” he called out and she turned back to him. He continued, proud of himself for not stuttering, “Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out.”

She smiled at him, the thousand-watt grin he sometimes felt was reserved just for him, and then she turned away again. Fitz blinked once, slowly, unable to look away as she disappeared. Finally, he faced the others, and then immediately ducked his head at their far-too-knowing, far-too-teasing expressions.

“What.” It wasn’t a question.

“Oh, Simmons,” Skye said, affecting the truly awful fake Scottish accent she pulled out whenever she wanted to mock him. “Don’t worry. Your gallant knight Sir Fitz will fix everything.”

“If not,” Trip added, and Fitz glared at him. They had finally started to get along after several months of not quite knowing what roles they each played within their group of friends. Fitz didn’t need this from him too. “You can always stay at my apartment if you can’t afford rent. I’ve only got the one bed but we can share.”

“Let me hug you until you stop crying, Jemma. Can I call you Jemma? I know it’s a bit forward, since I’ve only known you four years.”

“But I call you that every night in my bed all by myself when I – ”

“Enough,” Fitz cut them both off. “I’ve told you, we’re just friends. It is possible, you know.”

Skye snorted. “Sure, it is. We’re – ” she gestured between them. “ – just friends. Trip and I are just friends. You and Jemma are _not_ just friends.”

Fitz looked off to the side, shaking his head. Finally, he stood up without responding further and grabbed his backpack off the ground. “I have to get to the lab,” he said.

**

Jemma yawned and blinked several times, trying to wake herself back up to a sharper sense of awareness. She’d had a late night time point in the lab, and was finally going home at close to 2:00 in the morning. On public transportation, no less. It was dangerous to let herself drift off. She might miss her stop, or worse. And even with that reminder, she very nearly did. She noticed where the bus was almost too late and swore under her breath as she reached up to tug on the cord. The driver slammed the brakes, grumbling slightly, and Jemma called out an apology as she waited for the rear doors to open.

She hopped down the stairs, adrenaline waking her up just barely enough to make it the few blocks home. First, she stopped just outside the bus stop shelter to put her backpack on. Glancing up, she did a double take at the _Looking to make some cash?_ flyer taped to the glass. 

Jemma stepped closer, reading the fine print. The job was offering 20 dollars ( _20 dollars!_ ) an hour, simply to man phones at a sex hotline. Goodness – Jemma was a biologist; she could explain to some confused college students how to put on a condom. She could certainly do it for _twenty dollars an hour_. She pulled one of the tags with the phone number printed on it off the bottom of the flyer. 

Beginning to walk again, she glanced around and tightened the straps of her backpack around her shoulders. She lived in a safe neighborhood, but she still hated walking home alone at night. She glanced at her watch and reminded herself that it was late. And then she reminded herself also that Fitz was almost certainly awake and he had told her once to always ring him, regardless of the time.

Before she could let herself think about it anymore, she pulled her mobile out of her pocket. At the same time, she stuffed the slip of paper into her other pocket and firmly told herself not to think about sex-related calls while dialing Fitz. 

“Hullo?” he finally said after several rings, his voice deep, the accent thicker than usual. He sounded funny, breathing too fast like he had been in the middle of an intense dream or had fumbled the phone trying to answer it or something.

“Did I wake you?” she asked, rather incredulously.

“No. Ah, no,” he replied quickly, coughing once. “I was up – awake. I mean, I’m in bed but…what’s wrong?”

“I’m on my way home,” she explained. “Stay on the phone with me ‘til I get there?”

“Mm-hmm. Of course,” he murmured, and Jemma smiled. She could almost sense him sinking back into his pillows.

**

Jemma took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Then she knocked on the nondescript office door. When she had inquired about the job, the person on the other end asked if her accent was real and then a few minutes later, asked when she could start. She needed to come down to sign some confidentiality contracts, which made lots of sense if she thought about it, and discuss training. It was the weirdest, easiest job interview she ever had.

The door opened and Jemma looked up at the woman on the other side. She smiled quickly, trying to seem professional and enthusiastic about the job.

“Jemma?”

“Yes! Hi!”

“I’m Victoria Hand,” the woman said, holding a hand out for her to shake. Jemma did, feeling a bit self-conscious as the woman continued to stare at her. “Too bad we don’t do video,” she added. “You’d be perfect.”

“I’m – I’m sorry?”

“Come in, come in.”

Jemma followed her inside the room, looking around. The office was small and simply decorated and she didn’t see any… “Where are all the phones?”

“Oh, you’ll be doing that from home, or wherever you want to. You can set your own hours, too, though we do recommend being available for some of the more...peak hours. And we’ll give you a cell, of course. Please, have a seat.” 

She gestured towards a chair and Jemma quickly dropped into it, still feeling a bit confused and overwhelmed. Ms. Hand sat on the other side and reached into a drawer, pulling out several papers. 

“As I mentioned, we’ll ask you to respect the privacy of our clients. We’ve built a successful business on ensuring discreet, satisfying experiences to everyone who calls. They are paying four bucks a minute, after all. They deserve the best.”

“Four bucks!” Jemma interrupted. “That seems – I mean, shouldn’t it be…?” 

What kind of advice hotline was this?

Ms. Hand smiled at her. “It is perhaps a bit steep compared to other services, yes. And, of course, there’s free porn all over the internet these days. But when you offer the best, you can charge those rates.”

Jemma felt the blood drain from her face. What. Porn. What.

“What?” she nearly whispered.

“Of course, we won’t throw you into the deep end right away. A couple of our more experienced employees will do some role-playing scenarios with you, offer tips. And we’ll direct, hmmm, less discerning clients to you at first.”

“Uh…”

Ms. Hand laid out the sheets of paper in front of her. “Now, Jemma, it’s important to realize that these confidentiality clauses are as much for your own protection as the clients. No one will ever know your real name or phone number. We pay in cash. And remember, this isn’t – you’re on the phone. You don’t actually have to _participate_. You just have to make it _sound_ like you are.” 

Jemma stared back at her, feeling her heart pound wildly. What had she gotten herself into?

**

Fitz hid his mouth behind his hand to cover up his yawn. Normally, he was a night owl, and limited sleep didn’t bother him. But after his conversation with Simmons, he returned to his…earlier activities and the…persistent issue that had never gone away (only got worse, to be honest, while he listened to her voice in his ear, sprawled out on his bed, his eyes drifting closed and his hand drifting down until he stopped himself with an internal scolding).

He did not – he did _not_ , no matter what Trip said – call out any particular name as he took care of the whole situation. And if that was just because he stuck his free fist in his mouth before the _Je-_ could turn into anything more, well, no one needed to know.

He had crashed after that, falling against his pillows with moans and little shudders and a sticky-wet hand and stomach. The…conclusion had been so much more intense than normal, and he didn’t want to think about how it had been because he had the recent memory of her voice spurring him on. He couldn’t find the energy to get out of bed and clean up, though, and when his alarm had woken him up far too early, he felt a special kind of disgusting exhaustion that had followed him throughout the day.

“Tired?” came that voice again, and Fitz glanced up with a smile as Jemma sat next to him. 

She turned sideways so she was facing him, and lifted a hand to run through his hair comfortingly. He tried not to shiver at the contact.

“ _Someone_ rung me at 2 in the morning last night,” he replied, shooting her a teasing smile.

“Sorry,” she said, with an apologetic chuckle.

“Don’t be,” he reassured her. Really, don’t be, he thought to himself.

**

Jemma had run straight to class from the…office, and then she met Fitz for their study session, and then she had to stop by the lab. She didn’t allow herself to think about the unexpected details of the job at all that day, not until she got home. And then she sat at her desk and thought long and hard. She pulled out a piece of paper and began to write.

_Pros: an exorbitant amount of money. I can pay rent. I can eat food. I can…help people feel happy??? I don’t actually have to “participate”. No one will ever know._

_Cons: OMG IT’S PROSTITUTION! If I don’t, I’ll have to ask my parents for money or (worse??) wait tables. ALSO SELLING SEX TO STRANGERS OMG_

She wandered around her flat for a while, making dinner and thinking some more. On one hand, it might be kind of interesting. She could look at it like an experiment, something social science-y, maybe. And she might actually learn how to flirt and feel more comfortable with her own body and sexuality and figure out how to get guys, you know just hypothetical guys, to look at her like more than a friend. And honestly, she didn’t have many other options. Besides, Jemma Simmons was not a quitter.

Ms. Hand had said there were different levels of service, too. Maybe she could specialize in the clients who just really needed someone to talk to, who needed that experience to build their own confidence, who maybe had some – problem – that prevented them from really living it. She could treat it like it actually was a hotline for people who just needed information and practice. Maybe.

She couldn’t believe she was actually trying to talk herself into this. Is this how it starts? The slippery slope to standing on a corner in fishnet stockings? Was the desperation for money that great? Was her self-respect so low?

She opened her fridge and stared at the meager contents. Beer and sriracha.

“I guess it is,” she muttered to herself.

**

Jemma felt like her whole body was shaking. She reached one trembling hand out and took another sip of the wine in front of her. It wasn’t exactly her first glass either. She exhaled slowly, feeling rather sick to her stomach. The truth of the matter was that she wasn’t all that experienced in _sex_ , let alone talking about it, _let alone_ dirty talk. She reminded herself that the call she was expecting was just practice. It was just her co-workers who were going to train her.

The mobile rang and she stared at it. It rang again and she swallowed against the lump in her throat. It rang a third time and her hand darted out to grab it.

“Hello?” she asked, trying to make her voice sound breathless in a good way instead of out of embarrassed terror. 

There was just a low chuckling on the other end. “First lesson,” the man’s voice was authoritative but not unkind. “Don’t answer the phone like you’re expecting the Spanish Inquisition.”

“Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition,” another voice added, a woman who seemed entirely dispassionate despite the joke, and Jemma realized they were on a conference call. 

“Jasmine?” the man spoke again.

“Yes?” Jemma asked after a beat, belatedly remembering that was supposed to be her name.

“Relax, OK?”

“OK,” she said, breathing out slowly.

“My name’s Gr – eg. I’ll be your client. April here will listen in and offer some tips. We’ll do this as many times as you need to get used to the process. OK?”

“OK,” she repeated.

“Hang up now. And when I call back, answer the phone like you’ve been waiting for me all day and you just can’t wait any longer.”

“O…K.”

“You might find it easier to picture someone.”

“Right.”

“Hang up now.”

Jemma did. And when the mobile rang again several seconds later, she felt a bit calmer. She refused to picture anyone though. She had never allowed herself to picture…anyone when she did anything remotely similar to this.

**

“Mmm,” Jemma moaned around the ice cream she sucked off her spoon. “So good,” she added as sensuously as possible.

“Yeah, you like that? Take it. Take it deep.”

“Give it to me. All of it. Um…yeah, fuck my mouth, Greg.”

“Tell me how big I am.”

“So big. Huge. I’m choking on it, Greg. And – and turgid.”

There was a pause. “Turgid?”

Jemma thought for a moment. “Engorged?”

“This isn’t the SATs, Jasmine.”

“Well, what should I say then?”

“These guys aren’t going to be firing on all cylinders at this point, if you’re doing your job right. You don’t want to make them think too hard. Keep it simple. And if you can’t think of something, just moan some more.”

Jemma sighed.

“You were doing really good, though,” Greg added encouragingly.

“You were,” April chimed in. “Better, at least. Good job using his name so much. Makes it feel personalized.”

“Back to the top.” His voice changed suddenly, dropping low and turning urgent. “Yeah, you like that, baby?”

Jemma rolled her eyes. “Oh, _Greg_ , yes. More.”

“Tell me how big I am.”

“God, Greg, you’re so big. I’m almost scared of it. It’s going to…stretch out…my, um, pussy.”

Jemma heard something that sounded suspiciously like a forehead smacking against a table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to make a list of all the things you’ll have to suspend your disbelief over, but that ended up being, like, the whole fic. So just roll with it, people! Do you want your porn or not?!
> 
> I’m still writing this, and I’m insanely busy in real life, so the updates won’t be particularly regular for a while. Don’t worry – this will get finished.


	2. Chapter 2

Fitz sat at his desk, chin propped on one hand while he doodled with the other. The pencil scratched to a halt as he realized he had been writing _JS_ over and over. He groaned, dropping the pencil and leaning forward to scrub at his face for a second. God, he needed to get a grip on himself.

And not like that.

He had missed his chance. They’d been friends for too long now, he had supported her through too many break-ups, and most importantly, she didn’t see him that way. And he needed to stop thinking about her like that, because it was just – it was rude, was what it was. It was disrespectful. Being her friend, her _best friend_ , was one of the great privileges of his life. It’d just have to be enough.

His mobile rang, and Fitz glanced over, a sudden smile breaking out on his face when he saw her name on the screen.

“Hey Simmons,” he said, answering the phone. 

“Hi Fitz. How are you?”

“Fine, you?”

“Um…good. Doing anything fun?”

“Well, I was going out with Skye and Trip to that – ”

“Oh, that new bar on 8th, that’s right.”

“You’re not coming?”

“No, I…I’m officially starting my new job tonight. Training’s over.”

“You found something?” Fitz asked, excited. He stood, stepping away from his desk and towards his closet. The conversation had reminded him he needed to get ready to go. “You hadn’t mentioned.”

There was a noticeable pause. “Yes, I – I. Well, I’m going to…be a telemarketer.”

“Ugh, really?”

“I know. But they’re paying cash, so.”

“Well, if anyone’s voice could convince me to hand over my money for a product or service of some kind…”

“That’s sweet,” Simmons said, and Fitz could hear the smile in her voice. He grinned too.

“What are you selling anyway?”

“Oh…all sorts of stuff. I’m - I’m a little nervous about it.”

“You’re going to be fine. Want to practice the sales pitch on me?”

Simmons started coughing. “No, that’s not necessary, Fitz. Thank you, though,” she eventually choked out. 

"You OK?"

"Yep! Just…swallowed funny."

“Well, you’re going to be great. Sorry, but I have to go now, anyway.”

“Have fun, Fitz. Don’t drink too much. And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Like drunk-dial exes?”

There was a pause, and then Simmons huffed. “One time, Fitz! One time!”

Fitz laughed. “I promise I won’t drunk-dial anyone but you.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Simmons responded, her voice deep and throaty, before quickly hanging up.

Fitz stared at his own phone for a moment. Normally a statement like that would be accompanied by a distinctively Simmons-esque laugh. But just then, she sounded almost…she sounded like she didn’t want _anything_ more than for him to call her later, loose and relaxed from just enough alcohol. Like “that” wasn’t the only thing she’d hold him to. 

Fitz shook his head. Clearly he was just projecting his own thoughts.

**

Jemma hung up her phone, flushing red and staring at it in horror. She didn’t know what came over her, what prompted her to slip into the tone she had spent the last week perfecting, the silky smooth near-moan that Greg assured her dripped with sex. God, she didn’t even want to know what Fitz was thinking right now, and she only could pray that he was as oblivious to that as to every other signal she had tried to send him over the last year or so, ever since she realized that her best friend was really so much more than that. She put her face in her hands for a moment, whimpered softly, and then sat straighter.

There was no time to worry about that. Her first official shift was starting any second, and she had plenty of other things to worry about. Like exactly how many showers she was going to need to take after it was over, just to feel clean again.

Her mobile – her _work_ one – rang, and Jemma stared at it for a moment. Then, she slowly reached out, dug deep for that tone again and pushed down hard against the urge to vomit. 

“Hello,” she purred into the receiver, cringing with awkwardness and silently screaming as the man on the other end replied. Then she forced a little giggle, an honest to God giggle, and said something innocuously flirtatious, remembering Greg and April’s tips for dragging these calls out as long as possible, earning every penny of the cash they were shelling out.

**

It took Fitz a few seconds longer than was necessary to unlock his door, but he was certainly not drunk. He was…buzzed, perhaps. Just enough to be feeling a little bold and a lot hot-and-bothered. He had been thinking about Simmons all night, missing her and wishing she was there and wondering if he really had been imagining the way her voice had sounded earlier on the phone. He wondered as he kicked his door shut, absently reaching one arm back to lock it, and the entire time he walked down the hall, yawning while he unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it on the ground, the t-shirt coming off soon after. He wondered about it as he flicked on the light in his bedroom, squinted in protest, and then flicked it off again, and as he toed off his shoes and kicked them over to the corner. He wondered about it as he shuffled over to his bed, unhooked his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, and pushed them off. And he wondered about it as he fell rather awkwardly onto his mattress.

Then he stopped wondering and rolled to his side, groaning softly as he reached back down to his jeans and pulled his mobile out of the pocket. He held the “1” down, letting speed-dial take over as he flopped onto his back again. He stared up at the ceiling through the darkness, smiling to himself as he waited for Simmons to answer.

“Hi Fitz,” her voice was soft and happy, and his smile turned into a grin.

“As promised,” he replied, “your drunk dial, madam.”

“Mademoiselle,” Simmons clarified, and if Fitz wasn’t dr – buzzed, he’d probably know why she felt the need to stress that. He never was any good at French. 

“How was your night? Sell a lot of whatever you’re selling?”

There was a long pause. “It went…fine. Technically, I’m still on duty.”

“Oh,” Fitz said. “Should I hang – ”

“No! No, it’s OK. We can talk for a little while,” Simmons reassured. “What about you? Have fun?”

“Eh. It’s never any fun without you.” Fitz felt like things were getting dangerous, like maybe he was saying things he shouldn’t, like he was getting too close to the caution signs he had put up long ago.

“I…I wish you were here with me tonight, too,” Simmons murmured. 

Neither of them spoke for several long moments, and Fitz’ eyes slowly closed. He inhaled deeply, listening to Simmons’ matching breaths on the other end. He was starting to second-guess taking off most of his clothes before calling her. Then again, he was starting to second-guess leaving his boxers on. Maybe he should just…he froze, stopping his hand and clenching it into a fist before it could go exploring any farther south. 

“Fitz…”

“I’m tired,” he said abruptly. “And I think I’m drunk.”

“I think you are too,” she said, the slightly teasing, slightly exasperated smile on her face more than apparent in her voice.

“If I weren’t,” he said leadingly, even though he knew it was a lie. If he weren’t drunk, he’d never have come even this close to the things he always wanted to say to her. 

“If you weren’t…?”

Fitz hesitated. It turned out he wasn’t drunk enough. “I’d come over and keep you company while you worked.”

Simmons sighed. “Go to sleep, Fitz.”

“OK.”

“Sweet dreams.”

He thought about saying something like those dreams would have to be about her if they had any hope of being sweet. Something suave that someone like Trip could pull off, and he certainly couldn’t.

“Good night, Simmons,” he said instead.

**

Jemma swiped her thumb over the screen of her mobile, smiling down at where his name still appeared. She didn’t have long to savor the moment, however, as her other phone soon rang. She sighed, glancing at her clock. If she did this right, this would be the last call of her shift. She hadn’t lied to Fitz; it had gone “fine”. But she’d only had three calls, and they were clearly what Ms. Hand would refer to as less discerning. They, in fact, did most of the work, and Jemma just moaned and sighed and squealed _oh God_ a lot as she flipped through a magazine. She had started subscriptions to several different ones, mostly for the sex tips, and she managed to try a few out successfully, if verbally.

Truthfully, the best call of the night had been the last one with Fitz, despite the earlier fiasco. She was strangely proud of herself for getting in some flirting, some innuendo. A very little bit, maybe, but more than she usually managed. This job really was helping her out in that department, at least. 

The phone rang again, insistently. She heaved a deep breath and then answered it.

“Hi,” she drawled.

“Hello, I am calling from a – ”

Jemma sat up abruptly, the magazine dropping from her lap as her eyes widened at the female voice. “Um, I think you have the wrong number.”

“Please, ma’am, I’m calling from a call center providing translating services for the deaf and hard of hearing. I am calling on behalf of a gentleman, so if you would speak to me as if to him, I will relay your messages.”

Jemma blinked several times. “What.”

Was this supposed to be an easy call? She’d have a word with the people at the switchboard, that’s for sure. On…on the other hand, she had wanted to see it as meaningful, a way to help people who might need extra _attention_. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, reminding herself of her personal values and standards. Really, it’d be just like practicing with Greg while April listened in. Sort of. 

“You…know what kind of call this is, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve already spoken with the operators and relayed the payment information.”

“Oh…OK, then. I’m – I’m Jasmine.”

There was a little snort on the other end, and Jemma blushed. 

“Sorry. These names keep getting worse.”

“You’ve done this before?”

“You wouldn’t believe how many times. Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

Jemma took a deep breath and nodded, then remembered the woman couldn’t see her. “Yes, OK,” she said.

“Clint says, what are you wearing?”

Jemma looked down at her t-shirt, the one with the little stain on the stomach that she stole from Fitz about two years ago, and her shorts, which were decorated with beakers and test tubes. “A bra and knickers, black, lacy.”

She heard the sounds of movement and skin sliding against skin, but not like she had ( _ugh_ ) heard with the earlier calls, and she realized the woman was doing sign language. At the same time, she heard her own words repeated in a whisper. 

“I sign and mouth the words,” the woman explained. “So he can read my lips.”

“OK,” Jemma replied, nodding in understanding. 

“Are your panties wet?”

“That – that was him?”

“Yes. Just talk to me like you would talk to him.”

“Right. Um. Very wet. They’re, uh, soaked and clinging to me. Should I take them off?”

There was a long delay, and then the woman replied again. “Leave them on. Spread your legs for me, so I can see how wet you are.”

Jemma flushed a bit and shifted in her seat. This was…different.

“OK. They’re spread.”

Another pause, but Jemma didn’t hear the sounds of the woman relaying the message. Finally, she spoke, “How long have you been doing this? Sorry, that’s me, not him.”

“Um, this is my first night.”

“Right. Do you want some help?”

“Huh?”

“I’ve done this before, like I said. With this guy, even; he’s a regular. And, I mean, no offense, but you’re not _great_ at this.”

“Is it that bad?”

“No, there’s…potential. But I’d prefer not to do this all night.”

Jemma took a breath. “OK. Sorry.”

The woman didn’t respond. Instead, she began talking to the other end again, this time loud enough so Jemma could hear her words clearly.

“I’ve got them spread open wide and waiting for you, and I’m _so_ wet already.”

Jemma waited for a long beat, lifting her free hand to her neck in embarrassment. Then the woman spoke again, relaying the message to at least keep up the façade. “Run your fingers along your seam, dip under the edge of the fabric to slide through your juices, and then suck them clean again.”

“Seam?” Jemma asked, an eyebrow rising. “ _Juices?_ ”

“I know, right?” She waited a moment, as if Jemma was saying more, and then continued. “Oooohhh, tastes so good. Why don’t you try a lick?”

Another long pause. “I want to,” the woman said, getting into the role, rather amusingly over-the-top. “I want to suck your clit and tongue-fuck you.”

“Oh my God,” Jemma choked out, pressing her palm against her mouth to stop from laughing. She tried not to think about how she was actually feeling a bit flustered.

“Let’s 69,” the woman said, switching her voice back over to a more feminine tone. “I bet you taste even better than I do. I can’t wait to get you in my mouth.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Jemma said.

“Huh? Was that for me or for him?”

“Sorry. You. You’re good at this.”

“Stay on the line after. I’ll give you some more tips. God, he’s really getting into this. I miss the days when this was just messaging and I didn’t have to see the video too.”

Jemma laughed. “I wonder if either of us really need to be here.”

The woman snorted. “No kidding – oh shit, hold on. Yeah, baby. More, more. Lick my pussy. You’re so good. Come for me. Now. _Please_.” She added a “good grief, come already” under her breath and Jemma pressed one of the throw pillows against her face to muffle her laughter.

“Yes, yes, yes. I’m coming. I’m coming. Stick your finger up my ass.”

“What?!” Jemma nearly shrieked.

“And…that did it. Thank you, sir, that will complete your call.” After another short pause, the woman spoke again. “Works every time.”

“I…really?”

“Oh, yes. Some guys like that, some guys prefer to be the ones to get the finger – or more – up them instead. You’ll figure it out.”

“Well, thanks. Sorry for putting you on the spot like that.”

She could almost hear the shrug. “No big deal. I’m Bobbi, by the way.”

“Um…Jemma.”

“Much better name. Do they record these calls?”

“No. Client privacy and all that.”

“Good, let’s chat more and make us both some easy money.”

Jemma laughed. “Sounds good.”

“By the way, your accent is great. How long did it take you to learn how to do that?”

“Oh. No. It’s real.”

“Oooh, sexy. Kind of a prim and proper girl gets herself debauched scenario. I like it. And I bet you do taste really good.”

Jemma flushed again, with embarrassment and something else. “What?”

Bobbi laughed. “Relax. I’m just teasing you. Unless…?”

“Ah, no. No, I’m…well, I’m suddenly realizing maybe not _straight_ , but…straight enough. And there’s someone else.”

“Worth a try. Now. Let me give you some more tips.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brought to you by this NSFW video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DxeArEGPZJg&feature=youtu.be
> 
> (No offense intended - meant to be humorous! Let me know any issues you might have with representation!)


	3. Chapter 3

Fitz glanced at Simmons, who was sitting next to him – maybe a little closer than necessary if it wasn’t just his imagination – as they worked on their respective manuscripts. They had a bet going as to who would finish revisions and submit for peer review first, and Fitz had thought it’d be an easy win. He only had a few pages left to edit, but he hadn’t accounted for the distraction of her breathing and the way her shirt would brush against his forearm sometimes and the adorable way she scrunched her nose when she wasn’t pleased with a section of her own writing.

“Why are you looking at me, Fitz?” she asked quietly, still typing away.

Fitz whipped his head forward again, and he stared intently at his computer screen. “No, I’m – just seeing where you were, that’s all. I’m almost done.”

“Hmm. Me too,” Simmons murmured. “But sometimes it’s more satisfying to watch the other person finish first, don’t you think?”

Fitz paused in his typing. He cleared his throat, shot a quick look at Simmons out of the corner of his eye, and swallowed thickly. His habit of hearing innuendo in everything she said had started to get out of control lately.

**

Jemma bit her lower lip, thinking as she worked on her to-do list for the next round of experiments she wanted to run. The one good thing about this job was, on slow nights, she was forced to stay at home, and that gave her time to really work on other things. The bad thing was that usually just when she started making real progress on something, someone rung the hotline.

Just like right then. 

Jemma sighed, reaching out absent-mindedly and pressing the answer button without even looking.

“Hi, stud,” she said, pitching her voice deep and raspy. “I’ve been waiting for your call.”

There was an exceptionally long pause, and then Fitz said, “What?”

Jemma sat up immediately, panicking as she belatedly realized that it had been her personal mobile that had rung. She lifted her free hand to her mouth, trying to stop the scream, as her eyes darted around the room wildly. She grasped desperately for some kind of explanation, and then she forced a really awkward laugh.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m just – I must be going kind of mental. I’ve been writing for the last three hours.”

“Oh. Um.”

“How are you?” she asked brightly.

“Good. I…was just wondering if you wanted to do a movie night tonight?”

“Oh,” Jemma said, her shoulders slumping in disappointment. “I’d love to, Fitz, but I have to work.”

“Bit late for telemarketing, isn’t it?”

Jemma cringed. “Well…it’s kind of an aggressive strategy, but sometimes people are more likely to buy something this late on a weekend night. Targets the lonely and bored, I guess.”

“I guess,” Fitz agreed with an almost painful little laugh. “You should call me then. I guess I fit into that category tonight.”

“I’m sorry, Fitz. If you’re free tomorrow, I’m all yours. I’ll do anything you want.” Jemma shook her head at herself as she realized she had slipped back into her sex voice at those comments. She was far too used to saying them in a different context. 

“Um,” Fitz replied after a beat, almost sounding a little flustered, and Jemma cringed again. When she wanted him to notice her, he never did… “That – that sounds…yeah. Tomorrow.”

“OK, tomorrow. Bye, Fitz.” 

She ended the call, dropped the mobile to the table, and buried her face in her hands. She was almost worried that she was getting too good at this. She had hoped it’d help her learn how to handle Fitz, not scare him away.

**

Fitz whined, collapsing back onto his bed as soon as he hung up. He wasn’t entirely sure how a simple phone conversation with Simmons always seemed to leave him half-hard, but he was actually starting to get a little annoyed by it. Then he sighed and looked down at his body. His tentative plans for the evening were more or less shot. He could just…spend some quality time with himself instead. Really…make a night of it.

Very deliberately, he allowed himself to think about Simmons again, about the way she had sounded when she answered her phone, about her promise to do anything he wanted. 

And then he groaned, scrubbing his hands up and down his face. Enough was enough. He had to do something about this. He had to get it out of his system once and for all.

Fitz sat up quickly, rolled off the bed, and took the few short steps to his desk. He sat down and opened his laptop, waiting a moment for it to wake up. And then he opened a browser and began to search. 

He pushed his chair back in surprise at the huge list of results. Then he shook his head at himself; he probably shouldn’t have been surprised. He scooted forward again, refining his keywords a bit to sort by area code, price and feedback. One company, SHIELD, stood out, and Fitz couldn’t help but snort at some of the comments. Things like “Shiel do anything,” and “SHe Is Eager to Lick Dicks,” and “Come with your shield or on her.”

It was more than he wanted to pay, and honestly he was starting to feel ashamed about the whole thing. But he was still hard, and imagining someone else was her intentionally saying things to get him off was better – marginally – than twisting her real words into his own fantasies.

Fitz reached for a pen and quickly scratched the number down on a post-it. Standing up again, he shucked off his jeans and hopped back on his bed. He grabbed his mobile and dialed before he could allow himself to think about it any further. 

The line rang twice before someone answered, and Fitz nearly hung up again as soon as heard the voice.

“SHIELD Services, how can we service you tonight?”

“Um.”

“Sir?”

“What – what are my options?”

“We have providers who can cater to virtually any preference. No difference in price.”

“Um. Ah. Do you have someone with an English accent? Or who can fake one well?”

“Female?”

“Oh! Um, yeah. Yes. Female.”

“Certainly. I’ll connect you with Jasmine shortly. First, I’ll need your payment information.”

“Right. And this – ah. How will it be…charged?”

“Very discreetly, sir. It will appear as SHIELD on your statement with no other details. And we, of course, will not use your information for any other purposes or share it with a third party.”

“Oh, OK. Um. Hold on.”

Fitz grunted a bit as he leaned over the side of the bed. He fumbled for his jeans and eventually found his wallet in his back pocket.

“Ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

He rattled off the number on his card. The longer this took, the less aroused and more self-conscious he felt. This was such a bad idea. 

“Thank you. Please hold for Jasmine.”

Some incongruous elevator music started playing, and Fitz leaned back against his pillows. He swallowed and rubbed at his eye. What the hell was he doing?

The music stopped suddenly, and he felt like his heart skipped a beat. “Hi there,” a woman said, and good God, she sounded exactly like Simmons. A very horny Simmons. He had to force himself not to whimper. “This is Jasmine.”

Fitz literally could not speak, and there was a long pause.

“Are – is someone there?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” Fitz forced out, blinking in surprise at the American accent he unintentionally affected. Then he shrugged. Seemed like a good idea actually. “Sorry. I’ve never done this before.”

“That’s OK. We can take our time. Go _nice_ and slow.”

“ _Hngh_ ,” Fitz breathed out, licking his lips and closing his eyes.

“What’s your name?”

“Fi – ah. Finn?”

“Finn?” she sounded a bit skeptical.

“Finn,” he repeated, trying to sound like he was telling the truth.

“Sure. I’m really glad you called tonight, Finn. I’ve been feeling lonely.”

“Yeah. Um, yeah. Me too.” 

She was silent for a while, and Fitz squeezed his eyes shut. He was crap at this, wasn’t he? He had no idea what to say. He may as well have been talking to Simmons with how tongue-tied he was.

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself, Finn?” she asked, her voice suddenly sounding like she was having a normal conversation instead of trying to suck him off through the phone. “Why are you calling tonight?”

He blinked his eyes open and stared at the ceiling. Then he forced himself to sit up. “There’s this girl,” he explained. “We’ve been friends for years.”

“And you want to be more than that?”

“Yeah, but she – ”

“Doesn’t know?”

“Doesn’t feel the same way.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s – I mean, it’s not your fault. But I’m having a hard time trying to get over her. I thought – I thought if I did something like this, then…it’s not like I’m – I’m not, you know I’m not…”

“It’s not _her_.”

“Yeah,” Fitz agreed, nodding even though he knew she couldn’t see him.

“But you could still pretend it’s her.”

“…Yeah. Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because – that seems rude to you.”

“Finn, I’m here to be what you want. To give you what you need.”

Fitz furrowed his brow. “That seems worse.”

“It is what it is.”

They were both silent again, and Fitz drew circles on his bedspread with his finger. He looked down at himself, realizing he had fully lost his erection. He sighed and rubbed at his eyebrow.

“Tell me about her,” Jasmine, or whatever her real name was, said.

“Really?”

“Yeah. What’s she like?”

“Super smart,” Fitz said immediately. “And very kind. She’s a bit of an odd duck, but she makes me laugh.”

“Wow.”

“What?” Fitz asked, slightly confused.

“No, it’s just…I guess I just expected you to say something about her looks.”

“Oh. Well, yeah, she is gorgeous. I can barely look directly at her sometimes.”

“Like the sun?” she asked, laughing a little.

“Yeah,” Fitz agreed with a smile. “The center of everything. Bright and cheerful, but she could burn me up too. But that’s not just – there are lots of pretty girls. There’s only one Si – her.”

“Have you said things like that to her?”

Fitz blushed. “God, no.”

“Maybe if you did, she’d reconsider her feelings.”

“I can’t say things like that to her. Whenever I try…I’m just really bad at it. I’ve never been good at talking to girls.”

“You’re doing fine with me.”

Fitz snorted. “Yeah, but it’s different, isn’t it? You’re not…”

“I’m not real. You have nothing to lose.”

“No.”

“Except four dollars a minute.”

Fitz laughed, collapsing back onto his bed. “I should hang up.”

“We can talk as long as you want, Finn. About anything you want.”

Fitz sighed. “I should hang up,” he repeated.

“Will you be OK?”

“Yeah. Yeah, thanks.”

“Anytime. I mean it. You can…you can ask for me specifically.”

“I might take you up on that.”

“Good night, Finn.”

“Night, Jasmine.”

Fitz hung up the phone blindly, and then rested it on his chest. He lifted his hands to fold them behind his head. Staring up at the ceiling, he sighed. 

He wished all girls were as easy to talk to, and he missed the days when there was nothing keeping him from that kind of honesty with Simmons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We will eventually get to some porn in this so-called PWP. I promise.
> 
> Credit for "shiel do anything" goes to typhanni/notapepper.


	4. Chapter 4

“Oh, _Fitz!_ ”

“What?” he asked, unsure what he had done to deserve such admonition. He looked inside his shopping basket curiously.

“Do you have anything that grew in the ground?”

Fitz shrugged, and then pointed in triumph. “Popcorn.”

Simmons sighed in exasperation and turned away, heading farther down the aisle. “How is it you don’t have scurvy?” she called over her shoulder.

Fitz fought a smile, following her like usual. “I didn’t invite you along so you could mock my diet.”

“I know,” Simmons confirmed, glancing at him with a smile. “You brought me along because you were hoping I’d cook you dinner tonight.”

“Is it working?” Fitz asked, ratcheting up his boyish charm as persuasively as possible.

“Not even close.”

Fitz pouted.

“Oh, don’t start. I’ll cook dinner _with_ you tonight.”

“Yeah?”

“But you’re in charge of the wine.”

“Deal.”

Simmons grinned at him, then turned down the next aisle. Fitz waited for a second.

“It’s a date,” he muttered, throwing up his free hand in defeat. “Or – maybe we can have each other for dessert. Or – you cook me dinner tonight; I’ll cook you dinner for the rest of our lives.”

Simmons suddenly appeared, leaning back around the aisle again. Fitz snapped his mouth shut and tried to look innocent.

“Are you coming?” she asked, and Fitz closed his eyes briefly at the thought of her saying something like that in an entirely different context.

When he opened his eyes again, she was furrowing her brow at him in curiosity. “Everything OK?”

“Fine,” he reassured her.

**

Jemma fought a little smile as Fitz collapsed on the couch next to her, groaning slightly. Almost outside of her control, her hand lifted, reaching out towards the little curls of hair at the back of his neck that she found so fascinating. She managed to stop herself just in time, though, changing direction until she was propping her head up.

“Full?”

“Stuffed. That was really good.”

“I don’t know how you can eat like that and still stay so…”

Fitz turned to look at her, opening his eyes and sending her a curious, strangely vulnerable expression. She felt something clutch at her heart, and forgot what she was going to say.

“Stay so…?”

“Um, skinny.”

He looked forward again, swallowing. “Skinny. Right.”

Jemma furrowed her brow, confused by his reaction. Most people liked compliments on their body. But then she never had been able to figure out what Fitz liked to hear. She’d never been able to find a way to tell him just the right thing for him to realize that she liked the way he looked, that she wanted his body naked on top of her. Sometimes she thought about just coming out and saying it, especially now that she was so used to saying things like that.

But all the other times she’d told a man that sort of thing, it hadn’t mattered. It wasn’t real, and there was no friendship to lose. And they had wanted to hear it.

Speaking of which… Jemma twisted her wrist to see her watch, then suppressed a sigh. She needed to leave if she wanted to be back home in time for her shift. Leaning forward, she placed her empty wine glass on Fitz’ coffee table, then stood.

“I have to go,” she announced.

“Oh!” She heard Fitz stand up right behind her. “Really?” he asked, and Jemma wished the disappointment in his voice wasn’t just her imagination and the wine playing tricks on her. 

“’Fraid so,” she confirmed, stumbling slightly as she turned to look at him. His hands caught her elbows, and she blushed a little as she realized how close they were standing.

“Are you OK to get home alone?”

“Yes,” Jemma declared, waving one hand dismissively. It was shaking a bit with nerves, which probably didn’t help sell the idea that she was sober. 

But he didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy looking at her with this intense sort of stare, and his hands twitched a bit, just enough to remind Jemma he was still holding onto her. They were so close. She could feel the heat radiating off him, smell the alcohol on his breath. If she just took one step closer…

He stepped back suddenly, and Jemma dropped her eyes. 

“I have to go,” she repeated, tucking one strand of hair behind her ear as she bent down to pick up her purse. 

Neither of them said much of anything after that, all possible statements catching in their throats and coming out half-formed and awkward. He walked her to the door, and Jemma felt clumsy as she fumbled to turn the knob. And when she was alone in the hallway, the door shut behind her, she stifled a groan and brought one hand to her face.

**

Fitz spent the next hour cleaning up after dinner and then going on to clean the rest of his flat, trying not to think about the entire day he had just spent with Simmons. And definitely trying not to think about the way it had ended, how he had been so sure they were about to kiss and then…nothing.

She was so confusing.

Eventually he shuffled into his room and fell onto his bed with a sigh. He stared up at the ceiling, feeling incredibly sorry for himself and just a bit irrationally angry at her. Whenever he thought he was ready to move on, to accept that she was never going to return his feelings, she always seemed to do something that was just enough to get his hopes up again. And it wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t. It was his problem. 

He just wished he knew how to solve it. He wished he understood girls even the slightest.

Fitz sighed, turning his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a post-it haphazardly clinging to the side of his dresser. He stopped breathing for a moment, feeling a bit like a deer in the headlights.

He shouldn’t call. He _couldn’t_ call. He didn’t have the money for one thing. And he knew – he wasn’t stupid, he _knew_ – that she didn’t really care about him. She probably didn’t even remember him, except maybe as the pathetic loser who called a phone sex company and then didn’t even have an orgasm. But…she was nice. She at least pretended to really listen to him. And maybe he did just need someone to talk to. A woman who could explain Simmons to him. 

A woman who would maybe flirt with him a bit too. In a way that Fitz wouldn’t have to doubt what her intentions were.

Fitz sighed again, loudly, and thought about all the Ramen he’d have to buy the next time he needed groceries. Then he grabbed his phone and began to dial. Truthfully, he didn’t even need to look at the post-it. He’d memorized the phone number.

“SHIELD Services, how can we service you tonight?”

“Um, yeah. Could I speak to Jasmine please?”

“Certainly, sir. Which Jasmine?”

Fitz felt the blood drain from his face. There was more than one? Why would they have more than one? Was it really that sexy a name? He didn’t know her last name! Or her “last name”! 

“Uh…”

“We have JaS&Mine, Jizz-in-the-ass-mine, Jas-man, J – ”

“Is there a British one?” Fitz interrupted before he had to listen to any more.

“Ah, Princess Jasmine. She’s available tonight. Your payment information, please.”

**

Jemma hung up, feeling a little sick to her stomach and wondering if switching to hard liquor would make it better or worse. She had just spent 30 minutes telling a man with the improbable name of Jasper how gorgeous his bald head was and describing how she was rubbing her own bald mound all over it. She shuddered a bit.

She didn’t have any time to recover, though, as the mobile rang again almost immediately. Jemma closed her eyes and sighed, reminding herself that this was only for a few months. In the fall, her assistantship would start up again and she wouldn’t have to do this anymore. 

“Baby, I hope you have something big and hard for me,” she murmured in greeting.

“It’s – ” An awkward, yet clearly a bit aroused and somewhat familiar cough came over the line. “Yeah, it’s Finn?”

“Oh!” Jemma blushed lightly, one hand absent-mindedly going up to her neck. “Finn, hi!”

“How – how are you?”

Jemma couldn’t help but grin. He was too sweet. He reminded her of Fitz in a way, all innocence and consideration. But different from Fitz too, because even though he hadn’t taken full advantage of the service, Jemma had no doubt whatsoever that he was _into_ her. “I’m great, Finn. Even happier now that you called. How are you?”

Finn let out an unexpected, gurgling sort of growl. “Confused,” he declared, and Jemma grinned wider. He had Fitz’ sudden temper too, it seemed. Maybe she’d be able to help him work out his frustration.

One way or the other.

What? Where on earth had that thought come from? Jemma blushed again, then forced herself to focus on the conversation. 

“Why are you confused?”

Finn sighed loudly. “I spent all day with, um, with her. You know, the – ”

“The dream girl?”

“Yeah. All day. We just hung out, doing date-type stuff. The zoo, and food, and all sorts of things. I swear – I mean, I really did think sometimes that we were about to, to kiss. I don’t know what’s happening anymore. I really thought she didn’t feel that way about me, but now I – sometimes it seems like she might.”

Jemma couldn’t help but remember back to her day with Fitz and nodded her head in commiseration, as well as a bit of amused surprise that she and Finn had done the same things with their respective crushes. She wondered if they had passed each other at the zoo and didn’t even know it. But one thing she did know was how Finn felt. There was a part of her that was positive she and Fitz had both been throwing each other signals. The way he had held onto her when she had stumbled, the look he had given her… But they just couldn’t get on the same page, and Jemma had felt so self-conscious after a while. 

“Maybe she does like you, Finn, and she’s just nervous. Maybe she just needs a little encouragement.”

“Like what?” Finn asked, hopeful. 

“Well…how do you usually flirt with her?”

“I – don’t.”

“Not at all?” Jemma asked, surprised. 

“I try not to,” Finn replied, and she could hear the cringe in his voice. “I don’t – want to make her uncomfortable. Sometimes I can’t help myself, but…I try not to.”

“Well then how do you know?” Jemma asked, exasperated.

“What?”

“How do you know she doesn’t like you?! If you’ve never even given her a sign…”

“I’m not her type. She reminded me of that today, even. You should see the guys she dates, these huge muscle-y oafs. I’m, I’m, I can’t compete.”

“I’m sure you bring something to the table they don’t.”

“Like what?” Finn scoffed.

“Your kindness, your charm. You’re a romantic, Finn. And you seem intelligent. Any girl would be more than thrilled.”

“That has not been my experience.”

Jemma shook her head. “OK, that’s it. I’m giving you an assignment, Finn. The next time you call me, you’ll have to report back.”

“What?” His tone was wary.

“Flirt with her, dammit! Hold eye contact, smile at her, give her little innocent touches, compliment her. Hell, be bold and make a little innuendo, if you can. Just do _something_. You’ll never get her if you never even try.”

Finn was silent for a long time, and Jemma was afraid she went too far. And then he sighed. “Yeah, OK. I’ll try.”

“Good! Don’t forget to report back.”

Finn hummed in acknowledgment, then was silent again. Jemma waited, curious. 

“You really think I’m – you really think that girls…?”

Jemma grinned but also fought a blush. Her voice was entirely, and entirely unintentionally, too husky when she responded. “I know I would.”

Finn was quiet for a beat, and his voice was gratifyingly unstable when he replied. “I should hang up.”

“If you want,” Jemma whispered, her eyes widening at the realization that she wouldn’t necessarily mind if he wanted to keep talking, if he wanted to shift their conversation into the type that she normally had with clients. 

Fitz really had her feeling frustrated, apparently.

“I’m – ah, no I should go. But I’ll call back soon.”

“OK, Finn. Bye.”

Jemma hung up, firmly telling herself she wasn’t feeling rejected by a second man that day.

**

After hanging up on Jasmine, Fitz sat still for several moments. And then he gave in and went to take a shower. Several minutes later, his hand soaped up and his head bent under the spray, he stroked himself at an almost punishing pace.

Memories of Simmons from that day flitted through his brain, as did the memory of Jasmine’s tone during several parts of their conversation. He didn’t know what was spurring him on more, and he felt guilty for thinking about both of them, to be honest.

Oh God, both of them. Simmons in the shower with him, smiling as she twisted and turned under the cascading water, her wet body plastered against his. Jasmine behind him, leaning forward and whispering in his ear all the things he wished Simmons would say. 

Frankly, he was kind of annoyed with himself that he didn’t stay on the phone for this. He paid four bucks a minute to get some flirting tips and then hung up to wank off. What kind of sense did that make? He could have her really talking to him through this, sounding just like a version of Simmons who actually wanted him. 

“Jesus,” Fitz whispered at the thought, stumbling slightly and bracing himself with one hand against the tub wall as he came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit for the numerous different Jasmines goes to typhanni/notapepper, though I messed around with the idea a bit.


	5. Chapter 5

“Hey, Simmons.”

“Oh, hi, Fitz. Give me two seconds,” Jemma replied, not looking up from her microscope.

“No rush,” Fitz replied. 

He was awkwardly silent for a moment; Jemma didn’t even need to look up to confirm that. And then suddenly he was stepping closer to her, one hand reaching out and tugging at the sleeve of her shirt. Jemma stared at his fingers in confused surprise, then finally looked up, her mouth hanging open in a questioning O.

“That’s a nice shirt,” Fitz said, his voice sounding very strange. Then he looked up at her, staring intently into her eyes. Jemma found it difficult to hold his gaze and dropped her own eyes away. 

“Um. Thank you?”

“Is it new?”

“No, I’ve – Fitz, I wear this shirt every couple weeks. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Oh. I guess I never noticed.”

Jemma tried not to feel hurt by that. Of course, he didn’t pay attention to her wardrobe. Why should he? He barely paid attention to his own. It didn’t…mean anything.

But he grinned widely at her then, practically baring his teeth in the biggest smile she’d ever seen from him. Jemma furrowed her brow.

“Anyway, it looks nice,” he said again.

Jemma didn’t know how to handle this conversation or what had gotten into Fitz. So instead she stood and began putting her slides back in the case.

“It’d look even better on – ”

She nearly dropped the entire box of glass slides, trying to imagine a possible end to that sentence that wouldn’t make her want to sink to the floor and cry. She wondered who he would like to see it on, whose clothing choices he cared more about.

“What?” she asked, trying not to let on that she felt hurt that he thought it’d look better on anyone else at all. 

Fitz just shook his head at her, eyes wide and face pale. This conversation kept getting weirder.

“Fitz, are you OK?” she asked, feeling rather exasperated.

“Fine. Let’s go to lunch.”

**

“Mmm, hi. I’ve been thinking about this all – ”

“It’s Finn.”

“Finn!” Jemma dropped the act immediately. “How are you? Did my suggestions work?”

He sighed loudly. “No. I don’t think I did it right. She just kind of stared at me weirdly. I’m so bad at this.”

Jemma sighed too, feeling frustrated. If she couldn’t have the relationship she wanted, she at least wanted Finn to. Maybe it was time they both admitted it just wasn’t meant to be. She steeled herself to tell him as much.

“Maybe you were right. Maybe…maybe, she doesn’t feel the same way.”

He was quiet for a long time. “Yeah, probably,” he finally said, soft and sad. Jemma felt awful.

“But!” she grasped for straws. “That means you can officially move on – try and find someone else.”

He laughed humorlessly.

“Too early for that?” she asked sympathetically.

“A bit. And besides – never mind.”

“Besides what?”

He paused again, then heaved a breath. “Just. If I… I don’t know, I just think that if I allowed myself to think about someone else, I’d simply move on to…you.”

Jemma couldn’t speak. Her heart clutched, a bit in pain at the thought of hurting him even more and a bit in intrigue at…other thoughts his statement sparked. 

“Finn…”

“I know. I know. You’re not real. That’s probably why. I can’t get my heart broken if I don’t actually risk it.”

“Yeah,” Jemma agreed. She swallowed and blinked a couple times. “None of this is real.”

Finn cleared his throat but didn’t speak. Jemma exhaled slowly, and tried to find her professionalism, such as it was. 

“I feel guilty,” she said eventually. “This is the third time you called me, and – well, you’re paying so much and you’re not getting anything out of it.”

“No, that’s not true. I get lots out of it,” he said sincerely, and Jemma smiled.

“Still,” she said slowly, suddenly realizing her free hand was playing with the collar of her shirt. She fought a strange sort of blush. “Have you ever thought about…trying again? Getting, um, getting your money’s worth? Getting her out of your system?”

There was a long pause, and when Finn spoke again, his voice was unsteady. “Yeah. I’ve thought about it. I’ve, uh, thought about it a lot.”

Jemma smiled, sliding down in her seat and feeling rather giddy. She knew other guys liked to get off to her voice, but it felt different with Finn somehow. Like it was about her specifically and not just a random, no strings attached voice. It was a nice change of pace, after going unnoticed by Fitz for so long. 

“What do you think about?” she asked.

“Um.”

“Touching me?”

“Ye – yeah.”

“Kissing me?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Fucking me?”

“Holy shit,” Finn whispered, and Jemma tried not to giggle.

She sat up again, and shook herself a bit. “When do you think about me? At night? In the shower?”

“Yeah, sometimes. Sometimes in class. Sometimes…no, never mind.”

“Tell me, Finn. Sometimes what?”

He paused before confessing, “Sometimes I think about both of you. At the same time.”

“Hmm,” Jemma said. “That’s OK.”

“It…is?”

“Sure. Do we do different things to you?”

“I – guess, yeah. You’re a little more… I mean, it’s more – romantic, I guess. With her, I mean. With you, it’s…”

“Hot?”

“Yeah.”

“Hard, fast? Raw and passionate?”

Finn whimpered quietly, and Jemma bit her lip to stop her smile. She was barely even skirting the more vanilla statements she’d had to make in this job, and yet she could tell he was already lost. His innocence was rather sweet. In a sexy kind of way. In a way that almost made her forget that this was a job and that she wished it was Fitz who thought about her like that instead. 

“How about we play a little game, Finn?”

“O…K.” He sounded wary yet intrigued.

“A guessing game. You said class earlier. I’ll try to guess your major. If I get it right, then I have to tell you something real about myself. And for each wrong guess, I’ll take off a piece of clothing.”

He exhaled sharply. “Yeah, OK.”

“And Finn, I’ll only have three chances before I’m completely naked.”

He made a noise that didn’t even come close to an English word.

“First, Finn, tell me something,” she continued.

“Hmm?”

“Are you hard?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, and then she could almost hear him wince over the phone. “Sorry.”

Jemma laughed. “Don’t be sorry. That’s how I want you to be. Do you need to take any clothes off? Get more comfortable?”

“Um…yeah. Ho – hold on.”

She could hear the phone drop and bounce on something soft, his mattress probably. And she heard the rustle of fabric as he moved, some slight swearing that made her grin. She bit her thumbnail as she waited.

“Ready,” he finally said, breathless and urgent.

“OK. Is your major…business?”

“No,” he replied immediately, happily.

“Oh, darn. I guess I’ll have to take my top off,” Jemma said, not able to even pretend she was disappointed by the wrong guess. 

For a moment, she hesitated. This would be it. This would be crossing a line. 

This would be participating.

And then she held the phone to the side, close enough so he could hear the slide of fabric as she pulled her shirt over her head with one hand. She maneuvered around to get the sleeves off, then threw it across the room. Shaking her hair out, she leaned back against the couch cushions again. 

“Second guess,” she murmured, and Finn hummed in anticipation. “You like going to the zoo, so you must like animals. Ecology? Animal Sciences? Vet school?”

“That’s three guesses,” Finn teased, and Jemma raised an eyebrow at his rather saucy tone. She hadn’t expected him to feel that secure yet, not at this point. “You aren’t trying to cheat, are you?”

Jemma let her eyes close for a moment. “Would you punish me if I were?”

Finn chuckled. “Yeah. I’d – um, I’d…spank you.”

“Better not cheat, then,” Jemma replied. “Because I’d rather _spank_ you.”

Finn muttered something into the phone, something unintelligible, and Jemma grinned again. “You aren’t touching yourself, are you, Finn? Don’t start without me. That’s cheating too.”

“No. No,” Finn clearly lied. “I’m not.”

“OK,” Jemma shifted in her seat, and tried to ignore the fact that if he asked her whether she was wet, she wouldn’t have to lie like she usually did. “Animal Sciences?”

“No,” he blurted. “Not even close.”

Jemma bit down on a moan. “What should I take off next? My bra or my knickers?”

He didn’t respond for a moment.

“Finn?”

“I’m thinking.”

Jemma couldn’t stop her laugh, and it rang out rather loudly across her living room. 

“Bra,” he finally said.

“OK,” she agreed. Bending forward, she tilted her head to hold the phone between her ear and shoulder. She reached behind herself and unhooked her bra. As soon as the stretch of the band loosened, her breasts spilled forward and she inhaled sharply at how sensitive they felt. Contorting a bit, she pulled both straps off her arms and tossed the bra somewhere in the direction of the shirt. “It’s off,” she added. “And a bit cold in here, apparently.”

Finn cleared his throat. “Are – your…your nipples, they’re…?”

“Very,” she confirmed. “I wish you were here to see. You could play with them. Warm me up a bit, with your hands or your mouth.”

“I would,” Finn replied quickly. “I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off.”

Jemma hesitated, then swallowed. She lifted her free hand to the opposite breast and squeezed softly. Shaking her head, she lifted the hand briefly, forming a fist. Then, she relaxed it again, and let it hover over her skin. She groaned rather self-deprecatingly. It’d been about a month since she did a self-exam, really. Good preventive health care right there, she thought to herself, dropping the hand back to her breast. A little thrill went through her as she rolled her palm and fingers over herself, and she instinctively squeezed her legs tighter together. 

It took her a moment to realize the fast, ragged breathing was coming from the phone and not her. She smiled at the sound, repositioning on the couch until she was lying down, her head resting on one of the throw pillows. Mindlessly, she slid her legs around until her toes contacted the other one. She squeezed it between her feet, bent her knees to pull it up and then flipped it a bit so it dropped on top of her. Stretching her legs out again, she moved until the pillow was in a better spot, and then she reached her free hand down. She pressed hard on the pillow, even as she canted her hips up, and her mouth opened in a silent gasp.

“Finn, you still with me?” she finally managed to ask.

“Yeah,” he groaned, breath hitching slightly. “I wish I really was there with you.”

“I do too, Finn. I wish it was you sliding your hand down my body. I can almost feel you – hot and hard and heavy on top of me.”

“Guess…” he broke off with a sudden moan and Jemma involuntarily mimicked him. “Guess again.”

She cast around for another potential major, having difficulty even trying to identify a single class taught at colleges. Rather heartbreakingly, and she tried not to let herself acknowledge why, the only thing she could come up with was…

“Engineering.”

The pause was longer that time, and she held her breath, not sure what she wanted his response to be. If she’d be willing to share some truth with him, or if she was ready to slide her last piece of clothing off. Either one felt far too intimate, far too much, like she was losing herself to this job, and like she was losing something she had been holding onto in the hope she could someday share it with Fitz. And yet she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop herself doing either one at this point.

“No,” he finally said, not quite as emphatically as he had denied the other guesses, but before Jemma could call him on it, he added, “Take off your knickers.”

And she couldn’t complain. She couldn’t deny or refuse him that. She bent her knees and planted her feet on the couch, lifting her hips as she pushed the thin cotton down. The pillow fell to the ground as she moved.

“I am, Finn. I’m taking them off. They’re clinging to me, they’re so wet, but they’re coming off.”

“They’re off?” he groaned. “You’re naked?”

“Completely,” she confirmed. “Laid out here, nothing on. You can start anywhere, Finn. Where do you want to touch me?”

“Everywhere,” he breathed out. 

“I know where I want you,” Jemma suggested, twisting her hips up into the air as she fought against her last shred of willpower. “Should I tell you?”

“Tell me,” Finn choked out. She could barely hear him over the sounds coming from the phone, the squelching of skin abusing wet skin, the squeaking of his mattress, the thump as his bedframe hit the wall of his room over and over. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

Jemma whimpered, giving in and flipping herself over. She pressed her forehead into the throw pillow, tilting her head so there was still room for her to talk into the phone, and she squeezed her other hand between the couch and her crotch. Grinding down against the heel of her palm, she rapidly stroked with her fingers, sliding through the wetness and pushing inside with forceful pulses.

“I want you to fuck me, Finn. Fuck me hard, now. I want you inside me, pounding away as fast and as deep as you can. Pull at my hair, bite down on my shoulder, throw me around onto my hands and knees and come at me from behind, anything you want, just whatever you do, _don’t stop_.”

 _Oh God_ , she could feel herself get closer and closer, as her voice trailed off into little high-pitched grunts and squeals. She was about to come, and she didn’t even care. She’d pay _him_ for this, right now, this moment of freedom and release and feeling like someone actually wanted her as much as she wanted him.

“Fuck,” he bit out. “You’re so amazing, J – Jasmine.”

“Are you gonna come for me? Are you close?”

“God. So close.” 

“Me too, Finn,” she gasped. Her hips were thrashing wildly, and her whole palm was soaked. She wished desperately that her couch was just a bit firmer, that she could get some real friction going, just enough to bring her over the edge. “I’m almost there. Please, just a little more. Take me – take everything you want from her _and_ me and just – take it all.”

“Fuckin’ hell, I’m – oh God, I’m comin’! Bleedin’ – Jemma! _Fuck, Je -_ ”

Jemma’s eyes flew open wide, and her whole body froze for a second in panic, at the unexpected shout of her real name and the extremely familiar Scottish accent in her ear. And then she came, harder and longer than she could ever remember doing before, crying out with a raw and guttural, almost primal noise. 

She melted into her couch, breathing rapidly and moaning, her fingers sinking even deeper inside her as she relaxed. And then she flushed red with humiliation and a sharp bolt of anger.

On the other end, Finn – _Fitz_ – was breathing just as hard, rumbling in pleasure. “That was incredible,” he eventually said, his voice deep and his real accent still there. “Thank you.”

Jemma hung up the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About time we got to some porn, huh?


	6. Chapter 6

It took Jemma a few minutes to recover enough to sit up. She was still breathing heavily, but now in embarrassment and horror. She glanced over at the mobile and then pushed it away from her, hearing it thump as it landed on the floor.

Oh God, did he know? Did he call on purpose? Was he – was he making fun of her?

Why – why would he though? Why would he say those things? Why would he let her say those things?

They were supposed to be friends, best friends. How could he do this to her?

How could he _not_ know? How could he not recognize her voice? They were supposed to be best friends!

Jemma lifted her feet and hooked them around the edge of the couch cushion. Hugging her legs, she pressed her forehead to her knees. For one intense conversation, all her discomfort with this stupid job had disappeared, all her confusion and heartbreak over Fitz had gone away. And now, everything was ruined. 

She couldn’t stop the sobs. She didn’t even try to.

**

Fitz stared up at the ceiling, still somewhat in disbelief about what had just happened. He didn’t remember the last time he came that hard. He was pretty sure he blacked out there for a moment, and he knew he shouted out something but God knows what. He hoped it wasn’t anything too embarrassing. He wouldn’t want Jasmine to – oh, crap, Jasmine.

He tightened his grip on the phone and swallowed. He still felt a little unsteady, couldn’t quite stop the little tremors shivering through him. “That was incredible,” he managed to say. “Thank you.”

There was no response. Fitz furrowed his brow.

“Jasmine?”

When she didn’t answer, he pulled the phone away and looked at the screen. The call had ended. Had he accidentally hung up on her? No, probably not. She must have hung up.

Was that standard procedure, he wondered. They always said goodbye before, but obviously their conversations had never gone that way before, either. Maybe…maybe he had done something wrong? Maybe she was angry at him? 

Oh hell, what had he said? 

But…why should that matter? As much as he wouldn’t mind believing otherwise, what had happened on his end hadn’t happened on hers. She said before that she was there to be what he needed, and he wasn’t stupid or arrogant enough to think that he was what she needed too. As good as she was at pretending (and holy crap, she was better than he could have ever imagined; it had seemed so real), she was simply doing her job. 

Fitz sighed. It must just be standard procedure. He wished it wasn’t. He wished he could talk to her now, hear her softly speak to him as he came down from the high. Murmur in his ear about how good it had been.

Fitz tossed his mobile aside and lay back down on his pillows. It _had_ been good. He actually had forgotten about Simmons for a little while. Well, not fully, he had to admit. Towards the end there, everything had been a confusing jumble of ecstasy and imagination. But he had forgotten her enough to just let himself go, and that was actually something of a relief.

He suddenly noticed that his fingers had been swirling and sliding back and forth in the mess on his stomach. Raising his eyebrows and lifting his head, he looked down at himself. He wondered – if he coated his hand in it and used it as… Would he be able to go again? His dick twitched a little at the thought, almost painfully and definitely weakly. Fitz sighed. No, probably not. 

He pulled himself up again, swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress. He climbed onto shaky feet and went into the bathroom. He wondered for a moment if this would make it easier or harder to face Simmons tomorrow.

And then he wondered how much money he had left in his bank account, and how soon was too soon to call again.

**

By the morning, Fitz was feeling pretty guilty, though. And when Simmons sat down next to him at lunch, he couldn’t even bring himself to look her in the eye. All the things he had said about her, the stuff he told a strange woman that he had never been able to tell her, when she was the one who deserved to hear it. And the way he had thought about her, however unintentionally, how he had pictured her for at least part – he could admit now, maybe even most – of the call. It just seemed so – what was Skye always saying, objectifying and dehumanizing.

But then he also felt guilty about the way he had remembered back to Jasmine, remembered the things she had said, and how that memory had helped him fall asleep with a smile on his face. Was it possible to cheat on someone you weren’t even dating with someone you’d never even met?

Was it possible to cheat on someone you were paying to be with you by wishing they were someone else?

Fitz was incredibly confused.

And Simmons’ attitude didn’t help matters. She was sitting very stiffly next to him, and she had yet to say hello. She didn’t even look over at him as she slowly opened her lunch bag. 

“Hello Simmons,” Fitz finally choked out.

“Fitz,” she replied, her voice oddly breathless.

“Is…is everything OK?”

She turned to him suddenly, looking at him with a piercing expression. Fitz faltered a bit. 

“Is it?” she asked.

“Um…yes? I mean, for me, anyway. You seem – ”

“What did you do last night, Fitz?”

His mouth opened and closed, and he couldn’t stop the blush rising up his cheeks. Could she somehow know? No. No, it wasn’t possible. She was just changing the subject or something, deflecting from whatever had her upset.

“I, um, I – I – I – hung out with Lance and Mack for a while. Food, video games. Then I went home. Read. Went to bed.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, and Fitz tried to appear trustworthy. Tried to look like he wasn’t thinking _and then I called a phone sex hotline and had a massive orgasm, possibly the best orgasm of my life, and you played a starring role_.

She looked away again, and took a large bite of her sandwich. They were both silent while she chewed. Fitz faced his own food, feeling uncharacteristically apathetic about eating any of it. 

“Is there something – are you keeping something from me?”

“No!” Fitz declared, perhaps a little too quickly. 

She was silent for a long while, and then she reached one hand out for her water bottle. It almost looked like it was trembling, and Fitz wondered what was bothering her.

“Simmons, did I do something or, or say something? What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “It’s not you, Fitz. It’s something else.”

“You can tell me about it, if you want. You can tell me anything.”

Simmons looked at him. She seemed incredibly sad, and then suddenly some other kind of emotion, anger perhaps, slid over her face. “Like you tell me everything, right?” she nearly spat at him.

“Simmons?”

She slammed her hands on the table, then stood up. He watched in confusion as she grabbed her things.

“I’m not hungry,” she declared. “I’m going back to the lab.”

He stared after her, unable to find any words, as she huffed away. 

“What’s gotten into her?” Skye asked.

Fitz jumped and turned to face his friend. He hadn’t even noticed her or Trip approaching, and he remained quiet as they sat down in their usual spots. Then he shrugged.

“I honestly don’t know.”

“Maybe she’s upset about what _hasn’t_ gotten into her…” Trip waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

It was Fitz’ turn to stand up in anger and leave his friends behind. He could hear Skye laughing as he walked away.

**

Jemma headed for the bathroom immediately, managing to hold the tears in just long enough.

He hadn’t known, she could tell that now. He wasn’t that good of a liar. His denial and embarrassed evasion were too clearly about the call itself, not about knowing it was her on the other end.

Which somehow made it worse.

Because – because that just meant he had sought out pleasure from someone else. As much as he claimed to care for her, he had never even tried to do that sort of thing with her. He had just used it as an excuse to get what he wanted. If he really cared about her, would he have been so clearly attracted to and aroused by Jasmine?

Was he just as selfish and base as all the other guys who called? The guys who took and took and took, who talked to her like she was some sort of…some sort of semen receptacle with no identity and no feelings and no desires of her own.

But…no, Jemma knew that wasn’t true. He had been her best friend for years, and she had been aware of her own feelings for him for about a year. He cared about her, he respected her, he did – he really did love her. Jemma could see it now, see all the little things he did that screamed how strongly he felt about her. 

So why was he so content to just leave things how they were? Why would he rather pay a stranger than try for the real thing?

**

After four days of going back and forth over all the conflicting thoughts and emotions swirling around in her mind, Jemma instead began to wonder if maybe she couldn’t use this to her advantage. She _had_ hoped she’d learn some self-confidence from this job, after all, some tricks to use _on_ Fitz. Maybe…

Maybe she could learn about what he liked, and start to implement that in real life? 

Maybe she could continue to encourage him to be brave and tell his crush the truth?

She’d just have to be strong and not let herself cross that line with him again. It was unprofessional, for one thing, and she shuddered to think how Ms. Hand would react if she learned Jemma had actually participated. 

And it would be just mean to actually do it again. She keenly remembered how much it had hurt when she thought he knew. How embarrassed she had been. But now she was the one who knew, and she wouldn’t let Fitz find out and feel that way too. She’d never tell him, of course. Even if she hadn’t signed the confidentiality contracts, she couldn’t imagine how that conversation would go. 

So, yes, she’d be an absolute professional with him, but she would figure out a way to make it work for her too. Why settle for simply enjoying those calls when she could actually use them to get what she really wanted instead?

She had a plan. Now, she just needed to wait for “Finn” to call again. 

God, what was taking him so long?

**

It had been four days. Fitz was starting to feel a little desperate, but he was also starting to think that maybe Jasmine _had_ hung up on him.

Because he was pretty sure…he let himself acknowledge it after the third strained conversation that Simmons had bolted from, for reasons she still refused to tell him…he was pretty sure he had called out _Jemma_ when he came. 

So he didn’t know why Simmons was so upset, but he had a pretty good idea why Jasmine had been offended enough to end the call.

His life had become entirely too complicated. The worst thing was, his closest friend was barely talking to him, and someone who had become a confidante was the other problem. 

Fitz sighed. He was feeling frustrated in more ways than one.

And then he just manned up. He didn’t know yet how to fix things with Simmons, but the Jasmine thing would probably be fairly easy to resolve. As far as Fitz could tell, they had always been almost brutally honest with each other about the realities of their particular situation. So he set aside his work and picked up his mobile, walking into his bedroom as he dialed.

He flicked the button on his jeans open as he listened to the ringing. Just – just to get comfortable.


	7. Chapter 7

“Hi.”

Jemma grinned in relief and anticipation. She’d recognize that sheepish voice anywhere.

“Finn! I was beginning to worry I’d never hear from you again.”

“You…you wanted me to call back?” He was back to using the assumed accent. How had she never realized before how noticeably fake it was?

“Of course.”

There was a long silence and Jemma waited nervously. 

“Did you hang up on me last time?” he blurted.

She let out a very calculated sigh. She had debated for hours the best way to handle this. The best way to shift his focus back to her and away from any sort of crush he might have developed on Jasmine, while still giving him just enough enticement to ensure he kept calling. So she could put her plan into action, of course. No other reason. 

“Yes,” she admitted. “I’m sorry. I was, well, I was upset.”

“Because I…”

“Because you called out her name, Finn. I wanted to hear mine. That hurt.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s OK. I guess I should be used to it. And I am, but – well, I wanted it to be different that time, and that scared me a bit, to be honest.”

“Scared you?” He sounded surprised and almost devastated, and Jemma smiled to herself. It was almost too easy. 

“You made me feel something. These calls, they’re not supposed to be about me. I’m not supposed to…it was overwhelming, Finn. I wanted you so badly. And I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

“You actually – you weren’t – that was real?”

“It was all real, Finn. And that was the first time I ever... You’re different from the other guys.”

“Different how?” His voice was practically a whisper. 

“You treat me better, like a real person. And you seem so real to me. But we both know that’s not true, don’t we?”

“Ye-yeah.”

“So I have to take a step back, Finn. I have to put up a wall here somehow.”

“Do you want me to hang up? Do you want me to – to stop calling?”

“No! No.”

“Then…what?”

“I want…I want you to tell me about her. She’s really the one you want, isn’t she? She’s who you picture, after all.”

“I – I don’t know anymore.”

Jemma flinched at that, but it wasn’t entirely surprising – and she suspected it wasn't really true anyway. “I know it’s confusing, Finn. It is for me, too. But we have to remember what’s real and what’s not. Can you do that? Can you promise me that you’ll remember she’s the one you really want? Otherwise, I don’t know if I can keep taking your calls.”

“No. Um, no. I promise.”

“Good. So… why don’t you tell me about her some more? How did you know? How did you know you wanted to be with her, that she was more than a friend?”

“Um. It was a year ago, I think. She had the flu.”

“Romantic,” Jemma teased, already figuring out where he was going with the story.

“No,” Finn laughed. “She – she was so stubborn, working through the whole thing. Her school stuff was not that important, but she wouldn’t listen to any of us. She – she collapsed. I rushed her to the emergency room. She had pneumonia on top of it, apparently. I thought – I thought she was going to die. She was so pale, could barely breathe. It was horrible. I didn’t know what to do; there was nothing I could do.”

Jemma remembered it well. It was the same day she had realized she was in love with him. _Of course_ they had that in common too. She could still remember waking up in the hospital and seeing him staring at her with panicked concern hiding behind a bravely reassuring face.

“That sounds…you were scared?”

“So scared. I realized I could lose her, not just to another guy or to jobs in different cities, but for good. Forever. I couldn’t imagine my life without her. When she – when she woke up, she thanked me for taking care of her. She kissed me on the cheek and called me a hero, which was ridiculous. I didn’t _do_ anything. I was completely useless.”

“You were there with her. You got her the help she needed.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. It didn’t feel like enough. I wanted to be more for her. I still want that – to really be able to show her how much she means to me.”

“I think I’ve figured it out, Finn – why you can’t get over your crush.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not a crush. You’re in love with her.”

“Yeah. I am. I think I am.”

A little shiver of joy went through her. She hadn’t realized it’d be that easy for him to admit. “So…tell me more. How would you show her? What would you do?”

“If I knew, I probably wouldn’t be calling you.”

“It’s not just romantic feelings, right? You want the physical side of things too?”

“God, yes.”

“Tell me how she looks – how she really looks, none of this like the sun poetry bullshit.”

“She, um, she has dark hair, long.”

“Does she wear it down?”

“Yeah, sometimes. And sometimes up in a ponytail. And sometimes – sometimes she does something to make it curly.”

“You like that, don’t you? I can tell.”

“I – I think about twisting the curls around my fingers, using them to pull her closer to me, maybe tugging them a bit as I kiss her so she moans into my mouth.”

“What would you do then?”

“I…don’t know.”

“Maybe slide your fingers lower? Smooth them over the sensitive skin of her neck, and rest them on top of her pulse so you can feel how her heart is pounding for you?”

“Uh, um. Yeah, that sounds good.”

Jemma tore her hand away from her neck, one of her fingers snagging slightly in the hair that was still twisted around it. She exhaled slowly. Professional. Professional. Turn this back on him.

“I bet she likes your fingers, Finn. I bet she thinks about them all the time, how long and dexterous they are. All the things you could do to her with them if you weren’t too busy fiddling around with your engineering projects.”

“I’m not – I told you I’m not an engineer,” he said after a moment, very unconvincingly.

“Hmm. I think you lied to me, Finn. I think you just said that so I’d take off my knickers.”

There was a long, guilty silence, and Jemma held her hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t laugh. She calmed herself, licked her lips, and began to speak again.

“I would have anyway, you know? I was too desperate by that point. I’m getting that desperate now.”

“Uh.”

“Are you feeling desperate?”

“Very.”

“Too bad. Because it’s time to punish you now. You cheated, Finn.”

“How…how are you going to punish me?”

“Tie you up, I think. Strap you to the bed so you can’t move, and I can have my wicked way with you.”

“ _Fff..._ ”

“Grip the edge of your bed with your free hand and don’t move it, OK? Imagine me – imagine _her_ on top of you, Finn. Writhing, head tilted back in pleasure, in control and demanding, and yet you still just can’t touch. You can’t reach out and take what you want, what you’ve wanted for so long. But at the same time, you’re getting it, everything you’ve been dreaming about. You’re inside her, deep, deep inside her, and she’s moaning, gasping, crying out as she bends forward. She grinds against you, hard, fast, tight little circles as she scrapes her nails down your chest. And you can’t do anything about it.”

“Fuckin’ hell.”

“How does she feel on top of you, Finn?”

“S'good. I’d love to let her pin me down.”

Jemma almost scoffed at that, recovering a bit from her own distraction. “Let her, huh? Are you lots bigger than her?”

“No,” he admitted, and Jemma nodded in agreement. Damn straight. She could totally take him. _Let her_ , what kind of – “No, not much. A few inches maybe. Less when she’s wearing heels.”

“Perfect size difference then, huh? Do you like when she wears heels?”

“God, yes.”

“Maybe she’s wearing heels in bed then. Black stilettos and nothing else.” Jemma made a mental note to go shoe shopping the next day. She wouldn’t be paid again for another week, but she’d find the money somehow. It’d be worth it.

“Jesus.”

“She won’t be able to hold out for long, you know. It’s as much punishment for her as you, not being able to feel your hands running all over her body. The closer she gets, the more she wants. Do you want it too, Finn? Do you want to touch her?”

He actually whimpered. 

“Do you want to touch me?”

“Yes. Fuck, yes.”

“I want that too, Finn. I want you to touch her and me. Both of us at the same time, even.”

“Oh, holy hell.”

“I’m going to untie you now, Finn, and this is what I want, OK?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do exactly this.”

“Anything, anything.”

“I want you to cup your balls. Roll them around, fondle them, but _don’t_ touch your cock.”

His response was closer to a whine that time, followed by some very broken gasps and moans. Jemma’s eyes drifted closed, and then she forced them wide open again. She pressed her free hand down on her thigh, digging her nails into her skin.

“We’re going to slow things down here a bit, OK? Sweet and romantic, so you can show her how much you care.”

“Please, I – ”

“Listen to me, Finn. Do you have a pillow nearby?”

“Uh…yes.”

“OK, bunch it up a bit. Make a little groove for yourself, and rut into it. Nice and slow. Imagine it’s her. She’s on her back now, begging for you to take control. Begging you to fill her up.”

She heard the sounds of sheets rustling, him turning onto his front, the squeak of the mattress as he – 

“Oh for the love of – ”

“Are you sliding into her? Are you moving together in a smooth, easy rhythm?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s staring up at you, and you can’t look away. You’re watching every little flicker of pleasure on her face, and you’re whispering her name over and over as you thrust inside.”

“Je – ”

“It’s OK, Finn. Say it. You promised me you would, remember.”

“Jemma.”

“Is there anything you want to tell Jemma, now in this moment?”

“So much.”

“Tell me then.”

“I – I love you.”

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Jemma.”

“Reach one hand up, Finn. Put your fingers in your mouth. Suck on them, pretend it’s her tongue wrapping around them. That the wet heat is all her.”

“Mmph.”

“Now, Finn, do you trust me?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Do exactly what I say.”

“ _Mmph._ ”

“Take your fingers out of your mouth and reach down behind you. On your next thrust, Finn, press into that pillow deep. Make her feel it all the way to her toes. Get as close to each other as you possibly can. And then push one of those fingers up your arse, Finn.”

“ _Huh?_ ”

“Trust me. Do it. Pretend it’s her hand, reaching around behind, pulling you in closer and deeper even as she slides that finger in.”

“Oh holy _fuck_.” 

There was nothing from the other end for several long moments except groans and bit-off curses, and then a muffled thump as he dropped the phone. 

She put her hand over her own mobile, just to be on the safe side, and whispered, “I love you too, Fitz,” while she waited.

Soon enough, his harsh, uneven breaths filled her ear again. “How did you – I’ve never – ”

Jemma ran her tongue over her lower lip as she smiled. “I’ve been told it works every time.”

“Oh my _God_.”

“Go to sleep now, Finn. Sweet dreams.”

“Jasmine, I – thank you.”

“Call again soon, OK?”

“Yeah. Soon, yeah.”

She hung up the phone then, smiling softly and letting her eyes drift closed for a moment. She did good, did her job, kept her distance, maintained control. She might have been a little more…a little more involved than she was with most clients, but that was understandable. She could do this – remember the difference between the Fitz she knew, the Fitz she loved, and the Finn who called her and made her feel…

Jemma groaned, then looked at the clock on the phone. Her shift was over. Anything she did now was technically on her own time. She wavered for a moment, then stood abruptly. Her legs were rather shaky as she hurried into her bedroom, but she managed to stay upright just long enough to pull her vibrator out of the drawer. 

She shimmied quickly, pushing her knickers down and trying not to notice how unprofessionally damp they were. And then she pulled the covers down with one sharp tug and climbed into bed. Dragging the sheet back on top of her again, she sighed and reached down, slowly sliding the vibrator inside her and biting her other hand to stop her moans.

Finally, finally, it was in fully, and she turned it on. She couldn’t stop the squeak of delight, and her eyelids fluttered as she started to pull it out slowly and push it back in. Slow and romantic and sweet, just like he wanted, just like she had made him do. She remembered back to the call, remembered how his voice sounded as he told her he loved her.

“Oh, Fitz, I love you too,” she murmured, for once not having to worry about biting her tongue and changing it to Finn. She was close already, tension pooling low in her belly. She sped up the movements of her hands just a tiny little bit. “Yes, oh, yes. Fitz, please. _Please_.”

Almost absent-mindedly, she sucked her own finger into her mouth, pretending it was his as she tightened her cheeks around it and laved it with her tongue. And then she worked up the courage to reach down, teasing the wet tip of her finger around the pucker of her arse. She closed her eyes, breathed out long and low, and then pushed in, just barely. And then she slid the vibrator in as deep as it could go, angling the little rabbit ears right for her clit.

“Oh fuck, _Fitz!_ ” she nearly screamed as she came, her back arching up.

Guess it really did work every time.


	8. Chapter 8

“Jemma, please tell me you don’t have to work tonight,” Skye begged as soon as she sat down at their regular lunch table.

“Hmm?” Jemma asked, before shaking her head. “No. I’m off. But I’ll be working ahead on my – ”

“No. You won’t.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Look, Jemma, this guy Lincoln – I told you about him, right? – his band is playing tonight, and I really want to go. But I can’t go by myself! That would be too obvious. Gotta play it cool for now, until I have him right where I want him. And I can’t go with just Trip, that would look like a date.”

“Well, what about Fitz? Or Lance and Mack? I really want to catch up on – ”

“Go with multiple guys? Jemma, that will look even worse. He’ll think I’m into, you know, group sex.”

Next to her, Fitz started coughing. Jemma pretended not to notice. And she certainly pretended she had no idea that he was thinking about the kinds of activities he’s talked about doing with Jemma and Jasmine at the same time. She considered making some innuendo, but Skye wasn’t as oblivious as Fitz was and she’d definitely have a response to that. Instead, she heaved a long-suffering sigh.

“Fine,” she said.

Skye immediately turned to Fitz. “Ha!”

Jemma narrowed her eyes in confusion. “Huh?”

“Now you have to go too!” Skye faced Jemma again. “Fitz said he’d only go if you were going.”

Jemma fought a smile. “Really?”

Fitz glanced at her, then quickly looked away. She saw the tips of his ears turn pink. “Just – I mean, I – didn’t want to be Skye and Trip’s third wheel.”

And Jemma’s good mood dampened slightly, though not entirely. A few weeks ago, a comment like that would have been hurtful. But she knew now he was deflecting, trying to downplay any of his true feelings on the matter. Jemma glanced over at Skye, who was just shaking her head at Fitz’ complete lack of debonairness. She bit her tongue to keep from laughing. 

“Oh, but Skye, I need something to wear. Do you want to go shopping with me this afternoon?”

“Absolutely I do.”

Fitz stood up. “That’s my cue to get out of here before anyone makes me hold a bunch of bags and boxes.”

Skye scoffed. “Like we want you to come anyway. We don’t need any ‘third wheels’ dragging us down at the mall.”

Fitz sent a mocking face back at her, then smiled at Jemma. “See you later,” he said softly.

“Bye,” Jemma replied, staring back up at him. She didn’t even notice Skye looking back and forth between them until Skye’s toe nudged her shin. Kicked, more like. Jemma jumped and turned to stare at her friend, reaching down and lifting her leg to rub at the bruised skin. “What?!”

“Trip wants to take Lola, so you guys will have to drive separate. Maybe Fitz can pick you up?”

Jemma looked to Fitz again, feeling a little embarrassed by how obvious Skye was being. But Fitz didn’t seem to notice; he was just staring at Jemma intently.

“Yeah. Um, I can. If you want.”

“Yes, that’s fine,” Jemma breathed out. It was a sorry state of affairs when she was this excited over carpooling. 

His smile was rather brilliant, and Jemma swallowed. “See you later then,” he repeated. “Nine-ish?”

“Yes, all right.”

Jemma watched as Fitz walked away, enjoying the view of his arse. She wondered if she’d be able to convince him to dance tonight. She could maybe rest her hands on his waist, let them drift lower to his hips, her fingers trailing even farther down and pressing just slightly into the – 

Skye cleared her throat loudly, and Jemma jumped, turning to her quickly. Skye didn’t comment, at least with nothing besides a knowingly raised eyebrow. And Jemma could pretend not to notice that.

“Let’s eat,” she suggested brightly. “Then go shopping.”

**

“Dayum, girl.”

Jemma made a hesitant noise, turning sideways to look in the mirror. The back dropped low and the slit in the leg crawled high; she definitely wouldn’t be able to wear a bra with it and possibly not even knickers. Plus, it was more than she wanted to spend.

“I don’t know if I have the money for it. And it’s not like I go out enough to justify it. Couldn’t exactly wear this to my next conference, could I?”

“If you did, all the geeks’ heads would explode. It’d be mass geek-o-cide.”

Jemma hummed in acknowledgment. 

“But it’d probably be worth it if one specific geek’s head explodes. Or if his, you know, little head explodes, huh? Huh?” Skye insinuated. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You aren’t considering that dress for Trip’s or my benefit,” Skye pointed out.

“I’ve told you, Skye. Fitz and I are – ”

“Just friends. But you don’t have to be. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

Jemma sighed, reaching one hand up to fumble for the price tag. She stared at it again. She could work a few extra hours over the weekend and make up the difference. 

“I still have to get shoes,” she said. “And we should find something for you too.”

“Meh,” Skye replied, allowing Jemma to change the subject. “I think I’m going with that sparkly purple top and some skinny jeans. 

“Ooh, nice choice.”

“I know.”

Jemma sighed again. “Maybe I should just go with that black dress I wore to the holiday party – ”

“No. You’re getting this, Jemma Simmons, and I won’t hear another word about it.”

Jemma wavered, and Skye stared at her, eyebrows raised and arms crossed over her chest.

“Fine.”

Perhaps to make up for pushing her so much, Skye was on her best behavior as Jemma purchased the dress and they walked towards the shoe store. But she apparently couldn’t control herself when Jemma selected a pair of strappy black shoes with excessively high, pointy heels. The snort that came out of her was more than a bit annoying.

“What.”

Skye shrugged even as she shook her head and mimed locking her lips with a key. Jemma turned around to find a bench so she could try them on. She heard Skye mutter _poor Fitz_ under her breath. When she faced Skye again, she merely got a cherubic expression in return.

**

Jemma decided the outfit was worth every penny when she opened the door for Fitz and he was speechless for a full five minutes.

**

Fitz had a death grip on his bottle of beer, but it wasn’t making him feel any calmer. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think Simmons was purposely torturing him. She was in a very good mood, helped along by several shots she had downed with Skye. She was laughing a little too much and talking a little too loud and most upsettingly leaning towards Fitz a little too close. A few more centimeters and she’d be leaning _against_ him. As it was, he knew if he turned and tilted his head, he’d be able to see down her dress. And as he had realized when she had walked ahead of him on the way out to the car and he saw the frankly mind-blowing dip of the dress that revealed practically her entire back…of all the things he might be able to see, a bra wouldn’t be one of them.

He cleared his throat and took another sip of his beer. 

“C’mon, Trip!” Skye suddenly shouted. “Let’s go dance. Right in front of the band, so Lincoln can see me!”

Trip rolled his eyes at Fitz but followed Skye out of the booth. Which left Fitz and Simmons alone. 

Fitz drained his beer.

She turned to him to speak, but before she could speak, he blurted, “Are we OK?”

“Yes. Why?” she tilted her head in confusion, several of the little ringlets she had curled into her hair falling over her shoulder.

“You’ve been – I mean, you seemed like you were…upset with me the other week.”

“Oh,” she evaded, looking off to the side. “No, it wasn’t you. I had another _pleasant_ conversation with my parents, and I was taking it out on you.”

Fitz nodded in understanding and more than a little relief. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and placed his hand over hers. She turned it around and threaded her fingers through his own.

“Good. Because, ah, I don’t want you to ever be mad at me.”

Simmons smiled broadly at him, and then glanced away, seeming a little embarrassed or something. A moment later, she made eye contact again. Something had shifted in her expression.

“Do you want to dance too?” Simmons asked with a smile that could almost have made him agree. 

“Not with only two beers in me,” he replied dryly.

Simmons scooted, somehow even closer, holding eye contact the entire time. “If I buy you another one, how about then?”

Fitz stared back, and then – as if he were possessed – shrugged in agreement. She placed a hand on his chest, the pads of her fingers pressing into him slightly, and used the contact to guide him out of the booth. Fitz couldn’t take his eyes off her and nearly tripped in the process of standing up, but soon she was sauntering up towards the bar, her hips swaying more than normal because of the ankle-breaking heels she had on. Fitz watched her until she was out of his line of sight, and then leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and burying his face in his hands. This was possibly the best _and_ worst night of his entire life.

**

Jemma wondered if it’d be weird to ask the bartender for an ice cube she could hold to her chest and use to calm herself down. Even with a couple shots in her, she wasn’t really drunk enough not to be nervous. Maybe she was laying it on a bit thick, but she was starting to doubt Fitz’ claims that he was a genius.

She caught the bartender’s attention almost immediately, which she could only attribute to the dress. It had gotten its fair share of attention that night, she was vain enough to admit. Of course, the only attention she cared about was Fitz’ and he was still desperately trying not to let it be obvious that he was staring at her the entire time. 

She ordered another beer for him and another shot of liquid courage for her, then turned around to lean against the bar as she waited for the drinks. If she craned her head to one side, she could see Fitz sitting at the booth by himself, waiting for her to return. 

She couldn’t wait for the opportunity to dance with him. If she moved just right, his hand might slip down below the back of the dress. She could almost feel his fingers already, resting on the swell of her bum, maybe one thumb swiping up to caress the small of her back, his hand pressing into her to pull her closer. With the height of her heels, she was just tall enough to fit perfectly against him, and they could – 

“Here you go, doll.”

Jemma jumped in surprise and faced the bartender again. She lifted her purse, preparing to pull out some cash, when he spoke again.

“On the house.”

“Really?”

“You bet, but you can give me your number if you want.”

Jemma blinked in surprise. She was beginning to think this dress had magical powers. “Oh! I’m sorry, but…I’m here with…there’s someone else.”

The bartender nodded. “Not surprised to hear that,” he said, before walking away to the next customer.

“I know that voice.”

Jemma nearly tripped as she spun. Stupid heels. There was a tall blonde woman standing just behind her. “What? I’m sorry. I – what?”

“Jemma?”

“Yes. Do I know you?”

“Bobbi. From…”

It took Jemma a minute, and then her eyes opened wide. “Bobbi?!”

“Yes!”

They both laughed, out of nerves and disbelief, and then stepped closer to give each other a hug. When they pulled apart, Jemma stepped back and tucked her hair behind her ear. Bobbi gave her a once-over.

“You should be doing videos,” she observed.

Jemma blushed, then held a hand out and gestured for Bobbi to hold the volume down. “That’s – not exactly public knowledge, so…”

“Yeah,” Bobbi said, waving reassuringly. “Don’t worry. Oh my God, I can’t believe we’re actually meeting like this. What are you doing here?”

“Oh! My friend has a crush on the guitarist, so she dragged us out.”

“Us?”

Jemma pointed at the dance floor. “Skye and Trip there, me and – ” she turned towards the booth and indicated Fitz. “Um, uh. Fitz.”

Bobbi nodded knowingly. “He’s the ‘someone else.’”

“He’s…” Jemma ducked her head, blushing. “Not yet. I’d like him to be.”

“Well, that explains the fuck-me dress and the no-really-fuck-me shoes.”

Jemma blushed deeper, then attempted to change the subject. “What about you? What are you doing here?”

To Jemma’s surprise, Bobbi turned red herself. Apparently she wasn’t nearly as uninhibited and confident as she came across.

“I’m…here on a date.”

Jemma raised an eyebrow, waiting.

“With…Clint.”

“Clint?” Realization struck. “Clint?! From…?”

Bobbi nodded. 

“Bobbi!”

“It, ah, turned out that he had been trying to work up the nerve to cut out the middleman? Or more accurately, deal exclusively with the middle…woman.”

“And you agreed, I take it.”

Bobbi shrugged. “Like I said, I do a surprising number of those calls. It felt different with him. It felt…better.”

Jemma nearly dropped the drinks she was holding. She hesitated, looking down at her shaking hands. And then she quickly tilted her head back and drank her shot.

“Jemma?” Bobbi asked curiously. 

“I – I should get this beer over to Fitz.”

“Mm-hmm. Sure.” She still seemed suspicious, but accepted Jemma’s diversion. “But hey – give me your number, and we can hang out sometime. If you want.”

“Absolutely!”

**

If Fitz thought just sitting next to Simmons was torture, that was clearly because his brain couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to dance with her. But after he finally finished his very slowly nursed beer, Simmons demanded he honor his end of the deal.

Fitz shuffled back and forth. He was not much of a dancer, but Simmons was doing fine for both of them. She was pressed up close to him, closer than Fitz would have expected even with the crowd on the dance floor, and she had one hand hooked around his neck. Her heels gave her just enough inches to make them about the same height, and he could feel her breath hit his cheek in slightly irregular puffs. 

She reached down and took one of his hands, grabbing it from where it was hovering just to the side of her waist and pushing it down until he made contact with her. The tips of his fingers ended up on the bare skin of her back, and they twitched a bit. She moved her hand to his side, resting it over his ribs and splaying out her fingers.

Simmons leaned her head back just enough to look at him and gave him a smile. Fitz forced one back, feeling almost sick to his stomach he was so nervous and aroused. 

“I’m having fun tonight,” she shouted over the music.

Fitz swallowed and nodded, trying to wordlessly convey his agreement. 

Suddenly, Lincoln was saying something into the microphone, shouting above the notes his bandmates were still playing as he thanked the crowd for coming and started providing details for their next gig. Simmons pivoted where she stood in order to pay attention to Lincoln’s announcements, clutching Fitz’ arm to keep her balance but still rocking side to side slightly to the music even as she leaned back against him.

Fitz swore under his breath as his body reacted rather predictably. He firmly placed both hands on Simmons' hips, and held her still while he stepped back. He stared dead ahead then, ignoring the tingling senses that told him Simmons turned her head to look at him.


	9. Chapter 9

“Did you want to come up, Fitz? Um, hang out for a while longer?”

Fitz closed his eyes, exhaling with a little shudder, and Jemma felt a flare of hope that he might finally understand what she was trying to ask him. That he might finally risk it. And then he swallowed and seemed to steel himself, and Jemma felt her shoulders slump in disappointment.

“No, uh. Thanks, though. I should just…go home. It’s late.”

“Are you sure?”

“Some other time, yeah?”

Jemma nodded. “Some other time.”

She watched him walk back to his car, and she bit her lower lip. If his awkward gait was anything to go by, he wasn’t going straight to sleep when he got home. Though he might go straight to bed.

Jemma turned, opened her door quickly, and stumbled slightly as she unstrapped her heels. She ran barefoot then, sliding to a stop in the kitchen, grabbing onto the edge of the counter to catch herself. Picking up her work phone, she dialed quickly and waited for one of the operators to answer. She could feel her heartbeat get faster and faster, and little tingles of anticipation shoot through her whole body.

“Hello?”

“This is employee 4327. I know I’m not scheduled tonight, but I’m looking for some extra hours. If any of my regulars call, I can be available tonight.”

A brief pause and the clicking of computer keys. “Sounds good, Jasmine. I’ll enter you in the system.”

“Only for regulars though.”

“OK, I’ll flag it.”

Jemma hung up, and held the mobile to her chest, doing a little dance in excitement. And then she began to pace, calculating in her head how long it would take Fitz to get home, how long he might try to put it off or talk himself out of it, the likelihood that he _would_ talk himself out of it – no, that was so small it was practically impossible. But unless he broke all driving laws, she’d probably have to wait at least several more min – 

The mobile rang and Jemma nearly dropped it. She fumbled it for several terrible moments, and then caught it. Rushing over to the couch, she sat down, already starting to bunch up the fabric of her dress for easier access. Screw professionalism; she was drunk enough and frustrated enough to justify it somehow. With her other hand, she pressed the answer button quickly, even as she brought the phone to her ear.

“Hello?” she said giddily.

“Hi Jasmine, it’s been far too long.”

A bucket of ice water thrown at her wouldn’t be nearly as heart-stopping. Jemma fought against the wail of despair, and then grabbed a throw pillow, holding the phone away and the pillow to her face as she shrieked. 

“Far too long, Sunil,” she agreed in a ridiculously sensuous tone as soon as she brought the phone back to her ear. “I almost thought you forgot about me.”

Sunil chuckled, and Jemma tried not to cry as she wondered how fast she could get him off and free up her line. She took a deep breath.

“Now, Sunil, you know what is best. What is best is you comply.” After his standard response, she added, “Compliance will be rewarded.”

**

Fitz ran up the stairs to his flat as fast as he could, not willing to wait for or risk getting stuck in the ancient elevator. Unfortunately, his top speed wasn’t very fast, considering the raging erection fighting against his zipper. It had been an exceptionally challenging night, and he almost lost all control and actually accepted Jemma’s invitation inside. That could only have led to a devastating end to their friendship when she realized how his body had reacted to her offer.

With any luck, though, Jasmine would be working tonight, and he could get some relief. Jasmine and Jemma whirled around in his head, dizzyingly faster, as he unlocked his door and rushed inside, stopping just barely long enough to close and lock the door again. Losing his trousers and boxers as he went, he was almost completely naked as he entered the bedroom. He paused a moment to strip his shirt over his head, and then kept moving. Jumping and landing on the bed with a little bounce, he dialed the number with shaking fingers.

“SHIELD Services, how can – ”

“Yeah, is Jasmine on tonight? Princess Jasmine?”

“Hold, please…who’s calling?”

“Uh, um. Finn?”

A long pause, and Fitz fell back against his pillows, covering his eyes with one trembling hand. _Please please please please –_

“I’m sorry, Finn, but she’s currently unable to take your call.”

Fitz exhaled sharply. “What.”

“She’s available tonight, but otherwise occupied at the moment. May I interest you in another provider? You might enjoy Ariel – ”

“No. No, just – just Jasmine. Is she – how late – I mean, can I just call back?”

“Hold, please…Mr. Finn, I estimate that Princess Jasmine will be available in approximately 15 minutes. I’ll put a note in the system to reserve her for you.”

“Yeah, great,” Fitz muttered, hanging up the phone. He dropped it on the bed next to him and then grabbed one of his pillows out from under his head. He held it over his face and screamed in frustration.

**

Jemma pulled out every trick she knew, cringing yet inwardly celebrating as Sunil shouted out in release in record time. Needless to say, however, by the time she hung up, much of her enthusiasm and arousal had disappeared. She stared at the phone forlornly for several minutes and when it didn’t ring, she sighed. Standing, she walked out of the room, heading for the kitchen and a glass of water to stave off a hangover in the morning.

She wondered if Fitz had tried to call, if he – oh God, if he had gone with another girl instead. No, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t have. Maybe he just decided not to, tonight. Maybe he couldn’t wait and just managed on his own, without her. Jemma leaned against the sink, fighting the wave of disappointment as she downed the water. 

And then she nearly choked, coughing it back up, as she heard ringing from the other room. She raced back to the couch, hands scrambling for the mobile.

“Hello?” she said breathlessly, urgently, hopefully.

**

“Jasmine?” Fitz said, sighing out in relief when she answered. “Is it really you?”

“Oh God, Finn, yes.” She giggled a bit then. “Who else would it be?”

“I don’t know, but with the way my night is going, I wouldn’t be surprised by anything.”

“Well…hopefully we can turn the night around and end it on a very good note.”

“Mmm, I hope so.”

There was a long pause. “Finn, will you hold on a moment?”

He tried not to whimper. He didn’t know how much longer he could wait. “Why?”

“I just – I usually do this in my living room. Seems more professional. But I want to talk to you from my bedroom tonight.”

“Oh. OK. Yeah, definitely.”

“And I might get something out of my drawer while I’m at it.”

“…what?”

He could hear the smile in Jasmine’s voice when she answered. “Something long and smooth and hard. Something with batteries.”

Fitz felt his heart skip a beat. “Fuck, yeah, OK. Whatever you want. Take as much time as you need.”

He listened as she moved, her breath getting heavier and faster. Clearing his throat, he repositioned himself on his mattress. His hand moved on its own accord, hovering over his lower body. Then he formed a fist, forcing himself to wait, not wanting to do this without her.

“Why was your night bad?” she asked.

“It wasn’t all bad,” he countered, shaking his head. “Some of it was fantastic.”

“Were you with her – Jemma?”

Fitz paused, unsure how to answer.

“It’s OK if you were, Finn. It’s OK if that’s why you called.”

He breathed out, eyes closing. “Yeah. Yeah, I was with her.”

“Couldn’t have been too fantastic if you’re with me now,” she teased.

He couldn’t stop the self-deprecating laugh. “Fantastic for us, I guess. We went out, drinking and dancing. She was very…handsy.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. And she danced real close. She even – she turned her back to me and…”

“And? Rubbed against you?”

“Yeah,” Fitz confirmed, smiling as he remembered.

“Did you like that, Finn?”

“A little too much,” he admitted. “I had to push her away so she didn’t – so she didn’t feel how much.”

“Maybe she wanted to feel you. Maybe that was the point. Maybe she was teasing you on purpose.”

Fitz scoffed. “I wish.”

He heard her sigh, sounding more frustrated than he’d expect. He furrowed his brow in confusion, but forgot all about it with her next statement.

“I’m in my room now, Finn, and my clothes are off. I’ve found my special little friend and I’m ready for you. What did you have in mind tonight?”

“Oh God,” Fitz groaned. “I can’t decide.”

She chuckled in response, and Fitz felt a little flush of embarrassment and yet even more arousal at the sound.

“If she were here right now, and you could do something, anything, to respond to how she danced tonight – maybe if you could tease her right back, what would you do?”

He hesitated, an image flashing into his head. He was strangely nervous about telling her though.

“I can tell you’ve thought of something, Finn.”

He swallowed. “I’d – I’d eat her out.”

“Mmm. Yes, I’d li – I think she’d like that.”

“But I’d – I’d make her wait for it. I’d make her beg.”

“Tell me how, Finn. Describe it to me.”

Fitz closed his eyes, picturing it. His hand lowered onto his stomach and he began to play with the line of hair trailing down. 

“I’d start slow,” he murmured. “Little kisses to the inside of her thighs. Run my palms up to her arse and pull her closer.”

“Then what?”

“I’d…I’d take my tongue and lick her, taste the salt on her skin and move closer and closer. Skip right over her…”

“Her what, Finn? Say it.”

“Her…cunt – ” Fitz stopped speaking for a moment at the low moan that came out of Jasmine. His hips bucked up and his hand spasmed and then he settled again. “Skip right over it and lick my way down her other leg.”

“ _Ohhhh_ , mean. What – what’s she doing right now?”

“She’s…rocking up towards me, trying to make contact. Her hands – her hands are in my hair, pulling at it.”

“Hard? Does it hurt?”

“Not yet. Little tugs. Not enough to make me move any faster.”

“What would you do next?”

Fitz sighed, lifting his free hand to his face. He rubbed at his eye and then slid his hand lower, flattened his tongue along his fingers, snaking it through the crease between them, before dropping his hand back down. 

“Go up – go up and kiss her stomach, just below her belly button and just above her...”

Jasmine chuckled throatily and Fitz groaned out loud. “That’s a very nice spot, Finn. Tell me – did you shave today?”

“Um, no. No.”

“So you have some stubble, just enough to scratch her up a bit, leave her feeling a bit raw, leave a mark for her to look at and remember in the morning.”

“Ye – yeah. I guess so.”

“Good. Keep going.”

Fitz bit the inside of his cheek painfully and then finally wrapped his hand around his aching cock. “I’d bring my fingers up then, start teasing at her, get them wet with her and slide them up to – to rub – ”

“To rub her clit?”

“God.”

“Fast? Slow? Hard? Soft?”

“All – all of it. Alternating. I’d wait to see what she likes the most, and then I’d do something else.”

“Until she begs?”

“Until she begs.”

“So she’s – oh God, she’s whining softly, pleading for more, moving her hips all around trying to find something to rut against.”

With his eyes squeezed shut, Fitz could see her clearly in his mind, the way her body gyrated as it sought his out. “She wants it so bad.”

“She really does, Finn. She’s never needed it like she does with you.”

“So I – I give in.”

“Yes. Oh, yes, finally.”

Fitz planted his feet on the mattress and thrust up into his fist. “I put my mouth on her and – and I wrap my lips around her clit.”

“Yes! _Oh_. And your fingers, Finn.”

“Yeah. Bloody hell. My fingers inside her, thrustin’ deep. And then I’d drop lower, add my tongue in too, lick all the way down, push inside, taste her.”

“How does she taste?”

“So fucking good.”

“And she’s wet for you?”

“Just – drippin’. My fingers are – ”

“Soaked?”

“I can’t – I can’t – I’m gonna – ”

“Not yet, Finn. She’s, _unh_ , she’s almost there.”

Fitz moaned, turning to his side and letting the phone fall to the mattress. He rested his ear on top of it, freeing his other hand to reach down and cup his balls while he continued to pump his cock. “What – what does she need?”

“Go up again, Finn. Take your tongue and flick at her clit.”

“Shit. Yes. Fast little pulses. Over and over again, until she can’t take anymore.”

Jasmine didn’t reply for a long beat, and then Fitz heard a sharp cry. It sounded like it was ripped deep from within her, like the pleasure was too great, she had lost all control over her voice. He groaned in relieved joy and sped up his own movements.

“Oh, Fi…” she whispered. If she said anything else, he didn’t hear it over the rushing in his ears as he shot out his release.

It was at least a minute before he had enough sense to grasp for the phone, almost belatedly remembering to use the hand that was slightly less messy.

“Jasmine?” he asked.

There was no answer, and for a brief moment, Fitz was afraid she had hung up on him again. And then he heard her sigh in his ear.

“Did you…?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it was amazin’.”

“Mine too,” she moaned.

Fitz smiled lazily, opening his eyes and staring at the wall next to him. “I’m glad. It was a good idea, then, to get your...special friend.”

“Oh!” Her tone was rather surprised, and then she started laughing. Fitz narrowed his eyes in confusion. “I didn’t even use it,” she explained. “Just my fingers. I was – I was too distracted, I guess.”

Fitz’ heart swelled a bit, and he felt a strange sort of pride at that. And a strange sort of disappointment. “Damn,” he said. “I wanted you to use it. I wanted you to slide it inside your, uh, your…your pussy and pretend it was me.”

“Mmmm. Maybe next time.”

Fitz blinked. “Why wait?”

Her response was delayed but gratifyingly intrigued. “You came already. You probably won’t again.”

Fitz grinned. “So? You might.”

Again, she was silent. Fitz was about to say something, maybe even apologize for suggesting she let go of any more control than she already had, when suddenly he heard a click and then a whirring noise, as if she was holding the device right up next to the phone. After a moment, the sound faded and he heard her breathing again.

“Tell me what to do,” she commanded.

Fitz licked his lips, then began to speak.


	10. Chapter 10

Fitz held the door to his flat open with his fingertips, looking over his shoulder and smiling as Simmons followed him inside. He led the way to the kitchen counter, where he tossed his keys and the pile of mail he had just grabbed. Simmons immediately slid the newspaper closer to her and opened it to find movie times. Fitz was just about to excuse himself to change into more casual clothes for the evening when he saw the corner of an envelope peeking out from the stack.

Eyes widening, he reached out and grabbed it. His fingers were shaking a bit as he slid one under the flap. He had been dreading this. Finally, he removed the contents and unfolded the papers, his eyes zooming in on the total.

His eyes bugged out and he choked on his own saliva.

Simmons looked up, concerned.

“Fitz?”

Fitz waved a hand in reassurance, before turning to the side and bracing himself against the counter.

“Fine, I’m fine. Just – my credit card bill is a little higher than I…nothing, I’m fine.”

Simmons was silent for a long time, and when Fitz finally looked at her, she had an inexplicable guilty expression on her face. She dropped it quickly though, sending him a bright, supportive smile.

“How about we stream something instead tonight? I’ll spring for pizza.”

In the end, Fitz was grateful for the suggestion. Not because of the dire financial straits he had caused for himself, but because Simmons fell asleep halfway through the second movie. Her head slowly bobbed until it landed on his shoulder, and her arm eventually came up to wrap around his waist. Fitz breathed shallowly, trying not to disturb her. He spent most of the rest of the time watching her rather than the TV, until he too fell asleep.

Fitz didn’t wake up again until well into the early hours of the morning. Somehow throughout the night, they had shifted around, ending up with them both stretched out on the couch, Fitz’ arms wrapped around Simmons, her head resting on his chest and leaving a little spot of drool, their legs intertwined. Fitz smiled softly, as he tightened his embrace and Simmons moaned, her fingers clutching at his shirt. And then he closed his eyes again, allowing himself to fall back asleep.

**

Fitz had successfully avoided calling up Jasmine for nearly a week. Partly because of the whole money situation, and partly because the movie night with Simmons made him realize he was slipping a bit in his promise to Jasmine. It was so easy to get caught up in the moment with her, and even though he still pictured Simmons during those calls, he had started to wonder if it was just because he didn’t know what Jasmine looked like. It was getting harder to distinguish between the two women and his feelings for them.

But that night he had fallen asleep with Simmons, and the bashful way they had smiled at each other when they both woke up in the morning and hesitantly pulled away from the embrace, reminded him that she was the one he wanted. Jasmine was pretty freaking amazing, but she was ultimately just a fantasy. He didn’t know anything about her, really. 

Eventually he gave in though. He had been feeling exceptionally turned on all day, mostly because he had seen Simmons that morning reaching for some lab equipment off the top of a cupboard and her shirt had ridden up to reveal smooth, pale skin. And the idea of going back to “alone time” after so many experiences of coming with someone else’s voice in his ear as she too climaxed was not appealing at all.

He’d just have to remember to keep some emotional distance. And try to keep it a bit shorter, if he wanted to be able to pay rent that month.

**

Jemma sighed in exasperation and then leaned forward to return the brush to the pot of nail polish. Grabbing the mobile off the coffee table, she relaxed back onto the couch cushions.

“Hey baby,” she purred.

There was a little chuckle, and her heart soared. After his reaction to the credit card bill, she was worried she’d never hear from him again. 

“How many different openers do you have?”

Her only answer was a pleased little “Finn” and a sincere smile. She looked down at her half-painted toenails, wriggling them a bit in an attempt to ignore the muscles of her lower stomach already clenching in anticipation. “I’ve missed you,” she finally continued.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s been – sorry.”

They were both silent for a while, and then he heaved a breath. “So…what are you wearing?”

Jemma laughed out loud, then tried to sound disappointed. “Oh, Finn. Really?”

“Come on,” he replied, laughing himself. “It’s a classic for a reason.”

Jemma dropped her voice low. “A silky red teddy that leaves nothing to the imagination.”

After a pause, he responded, a little gravel in his own voice. “What are you really wearing?”

“Laundry day t-shirt and some boxers I stole from an ex,” Jemma replied with a small shrug.

He was silent again, and Jemma raised an eyebrow as she waited. The delay proved to be worth it when he finally murmured, “Somehow that’s even hotter.”

Jemma bit her lower lip.

“And,” he continued. “What, um, what are you doing tonight?”

She couldn’t stop her smile. “Feeling horny and hoping you’d call,” she informed him in an urgent, raspy tone.

“Jasmine.”

“Painting my toenails,” she confessed.

“What color?”

“Red.”

“Now, that’s sexy as hell.”

Jemma giggled. “I have a friend who says having painted nails under boring, old shoes is the easiest way to feel fantastic about yourself. You’re keeping a sensual little secret from the world. Like wearing a black, lacy bra under a stuffy, professional blazer. Or nothing at all under your skirt.”

When she stopped talking, she realized his breath had turned rather quick and shallow. He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I can see that.”

She squirmed in her seat at his tone, then glanced at her toes again. They seemed dry enough to move. She hopped off the couch and headed for her bedroom, the toe separator causing her to waddle slightly. She stopped just long enough to open her drawer and pull out her vibrator and toss it on the bed, and then she pushed her boxers off her hips with one hand. Falling to her bed with a little bounce, she sighed and brushed her hair off her face.

“Jasmine?”

“Just getting more comfortable, Finn. How about you? You comfortable?”

“I’m…decidedly not comfortable.”

“Hmm…let’s do something about that, shall we?”

“Let’s,” he readily agreed, and Jemma smirked.

She let her eyes drift closed and her fingers crawl across her belly. “What do you feel like tonight, Finn? Doggy style? Rough up against the wall? Ooh, on top of a desk in one of your classrooms?”

“No, I – ” he interrupted, and Jemma’s eyes opened in surprised confusion at his almost broken-sounding voice. “Just…slow.”

“Romantic?” she whispered.

“Like…it’s early in the morning and we’re tired, half-asleep, and just want to – be together.”

Jemma remembered back to the morning about a week ago when she woke up on the couch, wrapped in Fitz’ arms. She only had a minute or so to enjoy it before he stirred and looked down at her. And then she found herself shyly pulling away, disappointed that he let her.

“We can do that, Finn. We can do it just like that, but I want you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“Use your real accent.”

There was a long pause, and Jemma couldn’t stop her smile. 

“What?” he finally asked.

“You’re not very good at keeping that fake one going in the heat of the moment.”

“Um.”

“And I don’t want you to. I don’t want you focusing any of your brainpower on something else. Just let yourself go completely, Finn. Let go of all control, all barriers. There’s no place for them in sleepy, intimate…” She swallowed nervously and then continued, “love-making.”

“OK,” he finally agreed. And when he spoke again, his accent was clear. Jemma closed her eyes and exhaled at the sound. “I’ll talk in my real voice.”

“Mmm, yes. You sound – it’s sexy, Finn. You shouldn’t try to conceal it. We’re past that now, aren’t we?”

“Yeah. I guess we are, Jasmine.”

She opened her eyes. Her heart pounded wildly as she considered making a concession of her own. Finally, she worked up the courage. “Call me Jemma.”

There was a long pause, and she worried she somehow ruined everything.

“What?” he asked, that broken, vulnerable tone back.

“Just – if you want,” she tried to downplay. “It’s not like Jasmine’s my real name anyway.”

“I…I can’t.”

Jemma blinked at the ceiling, pretending she didn’t have tears in her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she was more touched that Fitz was still keeping that part of himself, his feelings for her, somehow sacred, or more hurt that he wanted to keep _this_ part of himself, the part that actually acted on his desires, separate and seemingly reserved for Jasmine. 

“It’s too – it’s too confusing,” he continued.

“I understand,” she murmured.

“It’s just – like we talked about before. We have to remember…”

“What’s real and what’s not,” Jemma concluded.

“I’m sor – ”

“Let’s get started, Finn. Talk to me. You’ve just woken up, somewhere between late night and early morning. You’re hard already, and I’m pushed right up against you so you’re snug in the groove of my arse. I moan in my sleep and lean back into you. You want to wake me up so badly, stare into my eyes through the dim streetlights coming in from the window, rock together slowly. Wake me up, Finn.”

She heard him sigh, low and deep, and then he started talking.

**

Fitz didn’t remember the last time he felt so content. He was reading through a new textbook, his mind going in a half dozen different tangents about how he could use the concepts in his current projects. But more importantly, Simmons was stretched out along his couch, her feet in his lap. He rested his hand on top of them, and every once in a while caressed his thumb over the bump of her ankle. He pretended it was an absent-minded gesture, but in truth, the feel of her skin under his fingers, the weight of her heels pressing just inches from his cock, the sight out of the corner of his eye of her body laid out beside him… It was certainly _distracting_.

Simmons turned the page of her own book, sighing softly. And then her stomach grumbled. Fitz looked over at her, a teasing smile already appearing on his face. She held her hand to her stomach and shot him a smile back.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“A little bit,” she confessed.

“You want me to make you a snack?”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Something healthy,” he promised.

“Yes, please.”

Fitz stood, carefully dislodging her feet and just as carefully lowering them back to the couch. He forced himself not to look back as he walked towards the kitchen. And then when he got there, he stared helplessly into his fridge for a while. Did he even have something she would consider healthy?

He eventually managed crackers and cheese, with some grapes that seemed like they were probably still good. It wasn’t much, but it’d have to do. And if not, the wine he grabbed would probably make up for it. He put everything onto one plate, thinking it would be sort of intimate if they shared, and hooked two glasses by the stems before grabbing the bottle. 

“OK,” he announced as he returned to the living room. “Your feast.”

She sat up, smiling at him, and swung her legs to the floor. Fitz sat down, maybe a bit closer than he needed to, but they _were_ sharing a plate, after all. He put everything on the coffee table and then bent forward to pour. She leaned against him, and he tried not to spill when he felt the warm press of her body along his back.

“Thank you, Fitz,” she murmured.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, offering a quick smile. “You’re welcome, Simmons.”

“Call me Jemma.”

And at that, he very nearly did spill. He wasn’t sure what was more startling about the statement, the fact that she said it at all or the fact that it immediately sent him back to his last conversation with Jasmine. He fumbled but quickly righted the bottle, and then placed it down on the coffee table. 

“Um…what?”

When he looked at her again, her eyes seemed unusually wide. Then she blinked a couple times and smiled. “I don’t know…we’ve been friends for years. You can call me by my first name.”

He stared at her, swallowing thickly.

“If…if you want,” she added.

“Yeah. No, yeah.” Fitz shook his head, trying to get some control. “I mean…if you want me to.”

Simmons – _Jemma_ – shrugged. Fitz forced a smile, then leaned back into the couch, holding Sim – _Jemma_ ’s wine glass out to her. 

“Drink up…Jemma.”

She smiled broadly at him, taking the wine glass. “I’ll still call you Fitz,” she teased.

“Yes, you will.”

S – _Jemma_ giggled, and for the love of God, Fitz thought he was past hearing the superficial similarities between her and Jasmine’s voice, but that night was proving him wrong.

**

Jemma was freaking out a little. She wasn’t sure what had compelled her to ask Fitz to call her by her first name. And she certainly wasn’t sure why she had said it in almost the exact same tone Jasmine had a few nights ago. If she wasn’t careful…

But she was also freaking out a little because Fitz was clearly enthusiastic about calling her _Jemma_. He was dropping it into every single sentence he said. She couldn’t help but remember April’s instructions to use a person’s name as frequently as possible, how it made things so much more personal and intense. In a funny way, a tiny part of her missed _Simmons_ , and the way it had seemed like a private little joke between them, their _thing_. But she was mostly just happy that he wanted to use her first name, that he was willing and indeed even thrilled to go to that level of intimacy with her and not Jasmine.

She was still the one he wanted. 

Maybe it was because of that, maybe it was because of the two and a half glasses of wine on nothing but some cheese and fruit, but when she left his flat that night, she took the chance on another moment of intimacy, on giving him something that Jasmine never could. He walked her to the door and she turned to face him before she left. Standing on tiptoes, she leaned forward and gave him a goodnight kiss, just at the corner of his lips.

His eyes were closed when she pulled away, and he was breathing rather quickly. Jemma smiled. How had she never picked up on all the signs of how he felt about her? 

As she walked down the hall, she wondered if the memory of that moment would be the provocation for his next call. She hoped it would be. She felt an eager tingle deep in her gut.

She hoped he called soon.


	11. Chapter 11

Jemma leaned back against the wall of the tub and sighed. The bubbles were starting to dissipate, and she was just thinking about turning the tap on with her foot to add some more hot water. Instead she reached blindly over the edge, feeling around until she snagged the rim of her wine glass. She brought it up for a sip, and then placed it back on the floor. 

She’d have to get out soon anyway. Her shift was about to start. She could only hope, between the bath and the wine, she had de-stressed enough to make it through another night. She was starting to see some patterns develop too, so she could almost predict who’d call. And sadly, it wasn’t likely to be Fitz.

Things had developed into a strange sort of holding pattern with him. She had been upping the ante quite a bit, flirting with him, suggesting as much innuendo as she dared, touching him more and more. And he seemed like he was approaching some sort of threshold, like he was about to finally say something. But he just wouldn’t cross it, and she couldn’t figure out what to do to give him that last push.

Or if she wanted to. Because at the same time, his calls had become a bit more frequent as well, a bit more intense, and she knew that had to do with how much she was provoking him in real life, which gave her a heady sense of power. She was enjoying herself more than she should with those conversations, to be honest. Even if they were less likely to focus on his feelings for her – Jemma, that is – these days, like he was forcing himself to keep things separate and clear in his head. Instead, the calls focused on _Jasmine_ and _Finn_ getting each other off in increasingly elaborate ways. Jemma doubted whether something he had described in the last call was physically possible. But it had certainly been appealing to imagine. 

Ultimately, she was pretty sure she and Fitz were both in a constant state of confused lust. And she feared that was causing her to be a bit more unguarded than she should be. Every once in a while, when she’d flirt with him, she’d say something or do something that made him look at her funny, and she’d remember something similar from a previous phone conversation. She was worried he was starting to realize the undeniable resemblance between her and Jasmine. She couldn’t let that happen. She’d lose him completely. 

Jemma was just starting to brainstorm ways she could detract suspicion, some crazy shenanigan to convince him that just because Clark Kent and Superman were never in the same room, it didn’t mean they were the same person, honestly! And then there was a sudden, shrill ringing.

Jemma jumped in surprise, and then sighed. She hadn’t realized so much time had passed. Her shift had apparently begun. She sat up and leaned over the edge of the tub, grabbing her work mobile. 

“Uh-oh,” she answered in a teasing voice. “You just caught me in the bath; I hope you’re not planning on dirtying me up.”

“I hope that tub’s big enough for two.”

“Finn!”

“That’s a rather enthusiastic response,” he pointed out, the grin in his voice clear.

Jemma ran a wet hand through her hair, smoothing it off her forehead. “I just didn’t expect you to call tonight.”

“You told me you were working tonight the last time we talked,” he reminded her. “You were hardly subtle.”

“Well, still,” Jemma replied, blushing. Maybe she hadn’t been. “Maybe I just wanted to make sure you didn’t call some other time and go with another girl instead.”

He laughed, rather loudly and somewhat self-deprecatingly. “I think my life is complicated enough in that department, don’t you?”

“Probably,” she acknowledged softly. She didn’t know if she should feel guilty or overly pleased with herself.

“So what are you up to tonight in between calls from horny, desperate losers like me?”

She snorted, then added, somewhat mockingly. “I’m taking a bath.”

“No, really.”

“I’m taking a bath!”

“You are?”

“Finn, would I lie to you?” Jemma winced as soon as she said that. 

“So, you really are naked and wet, just waiting for a call.” Obviously, he hadn’t noticed anything weird about her last response. Because he didn’t think she’d lie to him. That scale was tipping dangerously towards guilt.

“For once, I am literally naked and wet, just waiting for a call.”

He hummed appreciatively, and the scale slid right back towards overly pleased. 

“The water’s getting a little cold though. Any ideas for how to warm it up?”

“A few.”

“Do any of them involve the detachable shower head with options for different speeds of massaging spray?”

There was a long pause. “Well, they sure as hell do _now_.”

Jemma grinned, then braced her free hand on the edge of the tub as she stood. Water flowed off her body and splashed back down. The bubbles were almost all gone now, which Jemma couldn’t complain about. She sort of liked the idea of being able to see exactly what was about to happen under the surface of the water.

She stepped forward and reached up, unhooking the shower head with a little tug. 

“What about you, Finn? Where are you? Your bedroom?”

“Mmm.”

“Why don’t you go to your bathroom and fill up your tub too?”

He chuckled, the sound changing in volume as he apparently stood and began to walk. “You know, I _do_ feel like I should probably scrub some hard to reach places.”

“You wash my back, and I’ll wash yours?”

“Sounds like a deal,” he agreed, and over the phone she could hear the sound of his faucet being turned on. 

She lowered herself into the tub again, leaning forward to let some of the cooler water out. She watched it swirl down the drain for a few moments, and then put the stopper back in. Then she flipped on the faucet and pulled up the diverter. Water immediately started spraying out the shower head. Jemma licked her lips in excitement, and then leaned back in the tub, waiting for him to get ready.

“I really need to talk to my super about my water pressure,” he grumbled. “This is taking forever.”

“It really, really is,” Jemma was ashamed to admit that came out close to a whine. 

“Fuck it,” he said. Jemma opened her mouth to comment on how much she liked it when he swore when he followed it up with a rather high-pitched yelp.

“What is it?”

“Shoulda checked the water temp.”

“Cold?”

“Hot.”

Jemma lifted one hand to her face, shaking her head slightly. They were both silent a few more minutes, and then Fitz – _Finn_ sighed.

“Better. Now…”

“Where were we?” Jemma mused.

“I believe you mentioned something about a detachable shower head?”

“Oh, that’s right! What do you think I should _wash_ first?”

She didn’t say much of anything after that, as she followed his instructions. His voice was a little raspy and breathless, and Jemma moaned at the sound, her own breathing loud in her ears – and she imagined in his too – as it turned unsteady. Fitz – _Finn_ was nothing if not a genius, and he had definitely picked up on where every last one of her erogenous zones was located. Each of them was getting a very thorough cleaning that night. Well, all of them but one.

“Oh God,” Jemma groaned. “Please.”

“Did you want something?” he murmured.

“Yes, _yes_ , you – _please_.”

“Then do it. But Jasmine – turn up the speed first.”

Jemma forced her eyes open, then braced the shower head between her arm and torso as she turned the dial. Lifting one leg over the side of the tub, she lowered the spray to where she wanted it the most. The sound she made when the churning water finally started to drum against her could perhaps best be described as an embarrassing sort of howl-bleat.

Jemma didn’t care.

“God, Jasmine, you’re so – ” And with the spray mostly under the water now, Jemma could finally hear some of the quieter sounds from his end, the rhythmic splashing as he moved.

“ _You’re_ so… No one,” she paused and licked her lips. “No one has ever made me feel like this. Not on the phone, not even in person.”

“Me neither,” he grunted. “You make me feel – ”

“Sexy and – ”

“ – powerf – ”

“ – so desi – ”

“ – fuckin’ hot, like I – ”

“ – just can’t control myself – ”

“ – only one you ever really want – ”

“You are!” Jemma nearly shouted. “Only one, only – oh, oh God, oh, I’m – I’m coming, F – Fuck, fuck, _fuck_. Oh… _shit!_ ”

**

Fitz was pretty sure there was more water on his bathroom floor than in his tub at that point, but considering he had just had a pretty fantastic orgasm, and it sounded like he wasn’t the only one, he didn’t really care.

He leaned back, his eyes still closed and his breath heavy. Eventually, he sighed, then licked his lips. He swallowed to get some more moisture in his dry throat.

“Jasmine?” he whispered. “That was – ”

There was no answer, and he frowned when she didn’t finish his sentence the way he had starting getting used to. He pulled his mobile away from his ear and looked at the screen. The call had ended. 

“What the _hell_?”

**

“Oh, no,” Jemma whispered. She pulled the mobile out of the tub and pressed helplessly at the screen as water dripped off it.

Nothing happened.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no.”

Well, apparently her shift was over for the night. How was she going to explain this one to Ms. Hand?

**

“So, what happened?” Ms. Hand asked, even as she handed Jemma the new phone.

“I was doing dishes,” Jemma said, telling the story she had carefully rehearsed and avoiding Ms. Hand’s eyes. “And I accidentally knocked it in the sink.”

“Hmm,” Ms. Hand replied, her tone rather skeptical and disturbingly knowing. “Happens more often than you’d think.”

Jemma forced a smile and took the phone. “Won’t happen again.”

**

Perhaps it was karma that Jemma’s first call on the new phone was such a strange and frustrating ordeal. The operators really should screen these calls a bit better. Ms. Hand would not be happy if SHIELD got shut down because they let underage boys get through the system.

“You realize that’s both dangerous and extremely unpleasant?” she said, rolling her eyes. “And I should hang up now, but I can’t in good conscience do so.”

“Yeah, you know you want it, slut.”

Jemma sighed, even as she heard the other boy hiss _Seth!_

“No, I don’t _want_ it. I _do_ want to teach you the basics of safe, consensual sex. Not to mention how you shouldn’t use misogynistic slurs to imply a woman enjoying physical relationships with others is somehow undeserving of respect and common decency.”

The boy groaned.

“Barring that,” Jemma continued, undeterred. “I at least want to stress to you how absolutely illegal it is for you to be calling a service like this, and – ”

She heard a click and immediately stopped talking. Pulling the mobile away from her ear, she glanced at the screen. The call had ended. She sighed. So much for trying to educate them. She hoped they called an informational hotline and learned some important facts before they managed to get anyone to sleep with them in real life. 

She tossed the phone on the couch next to her and leaned back with a sigh. And then she checked the clock. Three hours to go. It was going to be a long night, she could just tell. If her increasingly supported but not yet fully proven algorithm was correct, she could expect calls from “Randy,” who always seemed high as he talked about how much he loved all of humanity and how beautiful she was, and the three brothers who were definitely closer than siblings should be, and the guy who asked her to call him General and made far too many references to her _taco_. 

Sadly, Fitz had an evening lab meeting on Tuesdays so she didn’t even have the prospect of Finn calling to make any of it more palatable. But his meeting wouldn’t start for another ten minutes or so. Jemma reached over the edge of the couch and picked her personal mobile up from the end table.

_Have fun at your meeting! If you want, come over after._

His response was sweetly fast. _I have a lot of work, so I can’t. But have you heard about the fair this weekend?_

 _Oh! Yes!_ she replied. There had been something in the newspaper a few weeks ago, but she forgot all about it.

_Want to go with me?_

Jemma smiled. _Yes! Saturday?_

_Great!_

She hesitated for a moment. _It’s a date!_ she typed. 

Then she deleted the message without sending it.


	12. Chapter 12

The night before the fair, Jemma was feeling more than a little excited. She had started to let herself believe this could be a game-changer. All day with Fitz. Alone. Doing a date-like activity. She had already picked out an outfit designed to flatter all her best curves – a tank top with a built-in bra and shorts that were maybe a little too short. She had bought some SPF _ten thousand_ too, so the outfit didn’t backfire on her. She’d pull her hair back so he could see as much skin as possible. And wear sunglasses so he couldn’t see the mischief in her eyes.

Of course, she’d need to flirt as much as possible. Make him so turned on, he’d almost have to finally give in. 

But…at the same time, she was starting to feel a little nervous. Uncertain if she’d be able to be so forward without the benefit of alcohol like before. Or the benefit of anonymity like on the phone. Because…maybe there was a reason he still wasn’t making a move, despite how truly obvious she had been with him lately. 

Maybe she’d need Jasmine’s help after all. 

As the plan started to form in her mind, Jemma realized it could serve multiple purposes. On one hand, it would help keep the deception – no, not deception. Illusion. Or something. Anyway, it would help it seem like there were definitely two different women Fitz was…involved with, for lack of a better phrase. She could stop worrying about him suspecting the truth, about losing him completely.

And second, it would ensure that her actions wouldn’t be in vain. She’d get some kind of payoff, one way or the other. And, to be completely honest, with both her and Jasmine working on Fitz, she wouldn’t have to worry about who exactly it was that aroused him enough to cross that threshold. 

Jemma put her laptop aside, knowing that she wasn’t going to get any more data analyses done that night. So much for trying to be productive on her evening off work. Standing up from the couch, she side-stepped slightly to grab the work mobile from the kitchen counter. Then she walked into her bedroom and took a breath to calm herself. 

She reached into the drawer and pulled out her vibrator. And then she quickly undressed. As she stretched out on her mattress, she turned the mobile on. Jemma twisted to grab the vibrator off the bedside table and settled against her pillows again. She held the device in front of her, cleared her throat a couple times, and then shook her head at herself. She couldn’t believe she was about to do this. 

Jemma swiped through the apps on the mobile until she found the camera. Then she opened her mouth wide and positioned the vibrator just so.

**

Fitz’ smile was damn near splitting his face. First, Jemma was dressed appropriately for the weather and completely inappropriately for his self-control. He spent far too much time sliding his gaze to the side to look at the constellations of freckles dotting across her chest, thankful for the sunglasses that provided him some concealment.

Second, and most importantly, after they arrived at the fair and bought their roll of tickets and started walking towards the different rides and booths, she reached out and grabbed his hand. Their fingers intertwined, and he looked over in surprise. But Jemma just smiled back at him. They hadn’t let go since. 

Truthfully, he had already started to think ahead to the Ferris wheel. He wondered exactly how much money he’d have to slip the operator for the ride to get “stuck” when they were at the top. He wondered if he could manage it without Jemma noticing. And he wondered if he’d have the courage to do anything while they were up there, anyway.

**

Jemma tried not to grimace as Fitz took a giant bite of his corn dog. It looked entirely unappealing. But somehow it was all worth it. Because she couldn’t help but notice that Fitz purposely bought something he could eat with one hand. And that he oh-so-casually reached out and grabbed hers again after he had paid the vendor.

He was steering them towards some of the spinning rides, but she wasn’t going to risk that. Not when he had just eaten. Quickest way to ruin the day. So she tugged him towards the funhouse instead. He’d like being able to explain to her how the silly mirrors worked. She’d even pretend she didn’t already know.

**

Fitz was in the middle of a rather long-winded explanation about the mirrors in the funhouse. Judging by the somewhat indulgent way Jemma was nodding, it was also probably unnecessary. But there were a couple people nearby clearly listening in as well. Anyway, it was a good distraction from the way this particular mirror stretched her legs out. Gave new meaning to the phrase “legs that went all the way up.”

Maybe it was time to move on, though. He pulled her along, and she walked just slightly behind him, futzing around with her purse with her other hand.

Fitz guided her in front of him as they left the funhouse, and at the same time, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He absent-mindedly reached for it. His brow furrowed in confusion when he saw the “Blocked Number” on the screen where it should have said the sender. Swiping at the screen, he opened the message and nearly dropped the phone.

It was a picture, zoomed in on a pair of red, shiny, wet lips opened wide so he could see the whole vibrator inside her mouth. Her tongue curled around the tip of it. The message simply said “ – J”. Fitz gulped.

“Everything OK?”

“Yeah,” Fitz blurted, scratching at his eyebrow before he quickly stuffed his phone back in his pocket. “Um…yeah, fine.”

**

The guy at the booth was clearly flirting with her, despite the fact that Fitz was standing really, really close. And looking more and more upset. She supposed she couldn’t blame him. The guy was exactly the type she would have dated before falling for Fitz. She had several exes that matched his body type, and Fitz had been there through all the break-ups, some of them more upsetting than others.

And so when Fitz used his extraordinary aim and knowledge of physics to knock down all the pins, even if he didn’t exactly have the best throwing arm, Jemma made sure to cheer enthusiastically. And when he proudly presented her with the stuffed animal prize – a monkey that Jemma was pretty sure Fitz secretly wanted for himself – she gave him a big hug. A hug that simply required her to press her breasts against his chest. And she didn’t give the guy at the booth a second glance as they walked away. She did reach out for Fitz’ hand again, though.

**

They were standing in line at the Ferris wheel; she was turned away from him and leaning against the fence barrier while he stared off in the distance and worried about how much his hand was sweating in hers. And then his mobile buzzed again and he had other things to worry about. He was half-dreading and half-hoping it was her again. He pulled the mobile from his pocket, holding it close so no one else could see the screen. A little blush rose on his cheeks when he saw the same “Blocked Number” sender. He cleared his throat and opened the message.

“God,” he whispered, his voice croaking. This time, she had taken the vibrator and slid it lower. It was tucked between her bare breasts, the tip poking out of her cleavage, one rosy brown nipple just barely in the shot. 

“Who are you texting?” Jemma wondered, turning around.

“No one, sorry,” Fitz said quickly, clearing and locking the screen. 

He took a deep breath and looked off to the side. They were already on the ride and moving by the time he recovered. And then he cursed to himself quietly – he had completely forgotten to scheme with the ride operator.

**

The sound of an upset kid clearly trying not to cry distracted Jemma as they walked towards the next section of the fair. She looked over and sensed Fitz do the same. The girl was looking at the tickets in her hand and then longingly at the game booth in front of her. It was one of those throwing games where if you got a table tennis ball into a fishbowl, you got the pet as a prize. The girl’s friends were trying to drag her along, saying something about how their parents were waiting, and the guy working at the booth looked helplessly apologetic.

“Oh no,” Jemma said, somewhere between laughter and sympathy.

Fitz glanced over at her and smiled. Then he dropped her hand and walked over toward the booth. Jemma followed slowly.

“Hey, do you need more tickets?” 

The girl and her friends all looked up at him in surprise. Up close, Jemma realized they were older than she thought, maybe twelve or thirteen. And they all simultaneously blushed, their eyes wide. Jemma tried not to smirk.

 _That’s right, girls_ , she thought. _He is super cute. And he has an accent. You’ll want to remember that detail for the diaries later._

“Um…” the girl said.

“It’s a waste anyway,” one of her friends breathed out. The third one was still entirely speechless, though Jemma thought she heard a little squeak come out of her. “The game’s rigged.”

Fitz grinned. Then he glanced up at the booth attendant. “Is that true? Is it rigged?”

“Not at all,” the guy immediately replied. Jemma tried not to roll her eyes at the obvious lie. 

“Hmm,” Fitz observed. 

He started walking around the table, pacing out distances and clearly calculating in his head. The girls were staring, confused, but Jemma just swallowed. She reached one hand up to her neck and felt the skin warm up as she flushed. Her breathing was turning a little shallow.

“I’ll give it a try, anyway,” Fitz said. He handed some tickets to the attendant, who gave him three balls in return.

Fitz bounced one on the table a couple times and then held it between two fingers, rolling it back and forth as he stared at it. 

“God,” Jemma whispered under her breath. 

Suddenly, he lightly tossed the ball. It landed in one of the bowls with a soft plunk. The girls all gasped in delight, and Jemma smiled. She wasn’t surprised at all.

She was maybe a little surprised, though, when the next two both landed in bowls too. Fitz faced the girls with a wide grin as the attendant transferred each of the fish to baggies. When he returned to the table with them, Fitz just nodded at the girls, who all stepped up to take one. 

Their gratitude was effusive and rather shrill, but Fitz just laughed.

“You can thank me by not telling your parents who won those for you,” he informed them. 

At the mention of their parents, they all looked at each other in alarm and ran off without another word. Jemma stepped up next to Fitz, unable to take her eyes off him. His lips twitched a bit as he attempted to stop his smile and appear indifferent to her gaze. Jemma closed the distance between them, reaching out for his hand again, feeling her eyelids drift half-closed, seeing his own eyes drop to her lips that she instinctively licked in response. He swallowed thickly, and Jemma caught herself just in time.

She turned suddenly, tugging on his hand to pull him away from the booth. “Come on, Fitz,” she said, her voice a little shaky. “I’m hungry.”

Drastic measures were officially necessary.

**

Fitz was far too distracted when his phone buzzed _again_. Jemma was in the middle of eating a cherry popsicle. Her lips were stained red, and there was melted syrup dripping down her hand, and oh God, she just licked it off and then stuck the ice back in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked and Fitz was going to lose it. He was going to come right there in front of Jemma, all the little kids at the fair, and everyone. He’d probably be arrested, and Jemma would never talk to him again.

He realized he kind of didn’t care when she pulled it out of her mouth with a little pop and smiled at him. _God_ , she was killing him today. Even before she decided she needed a phallic snack. 

“Was that your phone?”

“Huh?”

“That buzzing just now. Was that your phone?”

Fitz jumped, reaching down for his pocket immediately. “Blocked Number” again. He whimpered. 

When he opened the message, he abruptly stood up from the table, hoping to God his shirt hung low enough to cover any physical evidence of the thoughts he’d been having all day. 

He couldn’t see the tip of the vibrator this time. It was stuck between wet lips again. And not the kind on her face. The caption said “I’m waiting.”

“I don’t feel very well,” he announced. “I – I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Oh! Oh, no,” Jemma said, but he couldn’t tell if her tone was alarmed or something else. “OK. I might go too.”

“Yeah, fine. Meet back here?”

Fitz turned and started walking away without waiting for an answer. He suspected his face was extremely flushed at that point, and he hoped it helped sell the whole not-feeling-well excuse. He dialed as he walked towards the bathroom he had seen a few minutes ago.

“SHIE – ”

“Princess Jasmine, please. This is Finn.”

There was a pause. “I’m sorry, Mr. Finn, but Princess Jasmine doesn’t seem to be available today.”

“Can you check? I think she’s expecting my call.”

“Um…hold, please.”

Fitz nearly cheered when he reached the bathroom and realized that not only was it unoccupied, it was a one-seater. He locked the door behind himself, leaned against it and unzipped. He sighed in relief as the pressure lessened. He needed to take the edge off, fast, or he might ruin things with Jemma forever.

**

Jemma nearly cried in joy when she discovered the bathroom was intended for one person at a time. She didn’t fancy having to do this in a stall, hoping no one else came in. She locked the door, kicking the garbage can in front of it for good measure. Mouthing apologies at the stuffed monkey, she set it on the floor next to the door.

She heard a buzzing from her purse, and she reached inside quickly, pulling out the work phone that she had hidden in there and had been fumbling with blindly throughout the day, sending the pictures she had taken the night before. Recognizing the number for the switchboard, she answered while running over to the sink.

“Employee 4327?” she said, washing her hands quickly and then reaching out for paper towel.

“Hello, Jasmine. I’m sorry to ask you this, but you have a call from your regular, Finn. He seems pretty insistent.”

Jemma heaved a put-upon sigh, careful not to overdo it. “Yeah, OK. I guess I can do it.”

“OK, thanks. I’ll connect you.”

Jemma hung up and smiled in anticipation. Then she hurried over to the toilet, unbuttoning her shorts with one hand. She pushed them and her knickers off her hips and sat down, desperately trying not to think about the germs that were all around her. The thought was, frankly, disgusting, and maybe she should have planned this out better. At the same time, she was pretty sure she was going to explode if she didn’t come in the next few minutes. Moments later, the phone rang again and Jemma gleefully pressed the answer button. 

“What took you so long?” she scolded playfully, eyes closing as her fingers found her clit.

“What are y’trying to do to me, woman?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to suck me off,” he said without hesitation.

Jemma licked her lips, tasting the remnants of sticky sweetness from the popsicle she had practically molested for his benefit. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

**

Fitz’ head thumped against the door at the tone of her voice.

“We – we have to hurry, OK?” he requested. “I don’t…have much time.”

“Then let’s get started, Finn,” Jasmine replied. “Lick your hand, get it as wet as possible. Spit in it even.”

Fitz did as she said, slobbering into his free hand as much as he could. 

“Now,” Jasmine continued, her voice trembling a bit. “Grip yourself, Finn. As tight as you can stand. It’s my mouth forming the suction around you, remember? You’re going deep into my throat. So deep.”

Fitz grunted, flinching slightly at the tighter-than-normal hold he had on himself. Nonetheless, he stroked eagerly, his hips stuttering in aborted thrusts.

“Take your fingertips,” she instructed, “circle one around the head, Finn. Dip it into the slit of your cock. It’s my tongue, and I want to taste all of you.”

Fitz whined, his eyes squeezing shut. “Are you – goddammit – are you touching yourself?” he asked.

“I am, Finn. I can’t help myself. Knowing you’re practically ready to come so soon, knowing it’s because of me. It makes me so hot. I have one hand cupping your balls – ” Fitz immediately dropped his hand down to give them a light squeeze and tug before returning to his shaft. “ – and my other hand is down between my legs, rubbing away as fast as I can.”

“Are you wet? Are you close?”

“ _Unh_. So close, Finn. Oh God, so close. I’ve been waiting for this all day. I’ve been thinking about you all day. Quick, circle your palm over the head of your cock. Smear the pre-cum around, get it all over you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, fuck,” Fitz urged out. His hips were moving in earnest now, thrusting and circling out into the air, the open flaps of his jeans rubbing uncomfortably against his skin. “J – Jasmine, please.”

“I can’t hold much more in, Finn. Your dick, the fluid leaking out of it, my spit, my tongue. My mouth is stretched so wide around you, and all that moisture is sneaking out, dripping down my chin.”

“God,” Fitz moaned. “Take it, deeper.”

“Push in, Finn, as deep as you want. I’ll take you all the way down. I’ll swallow every last drop.”

“Fuck,” Fitz bit out, dropping his phone as he came. He folded in on himself, cupping his hand over his cock in an attempt to catch it all rather than let any accidentally get on his clothes. 

It took several moments but he eventually recovered. And then he looked around the room, dazed, before stepping over to the toilet. He grabbed some paper off the roll and swiped it over his hands until they were fairly dry and clean. 

He paused another moment to wipe off his dick and zip up his jeans, and then stepped back over to the phone. He picked it up and inspected it, grateful yet again for the heavy-duty, fracture-resistant case he had designed for it a couple months ago. All these unexpected uses…

Then he held the phone up to his ear. “Jasmine?” he asked.

“Did you come?” she immediately replied, her breath still coming in sharp, short bursts. 

“Yeah,” he murmured. He leaned forward, lifting his arm up to brace against the door and give him something to rest his forehead on. “What about you, love?”

“I’m almost – almost there. Just a little – ”

“What do you need?” Fitz asked, closing his eyes and licking his lips.

“Just – keep talking. Anything. I just need your voice.”

He wasn’t sure what nonsense he babbled into the phone, his own bliss still distracting him. But it seemed to do the trick, because less than a minute later, she was calling out, her very familiar moans and sighs filling his ear. 

“Oh, Finn,” she finally said. 

He smiled and was about to reply when suddenly there was a loud banging on the door. Fitz jumped even as a voice shouted out. “Hey, buddy, you gonna be all day in there?!”

“Just a minute,” he shouted back, annoyed. His voice changed completely as he switched back to his other conversation. “I have to go,” he apologized. “But thank you.”

“Mmm,” she replied. “Call back soon.”

“I will,” Fitz promised. 

He hung up the phone and carefully put it back in his pocket. Then he stared at his hands and pulled a face, hurrying over to the sink to wash them.

**

When Jemma opened the door, there was a line of women waiting. She blushed, hoping the room was soundproof.

“So sorry,” she apologized. “Stay away from the corn dogs.”

She made her way back to the table they had been sitting at earlier. Fitz was already there, looking delightfully rumpled and relaxed. He was staring at something on his phone, and Jemma grinned. She cleared her throat as she approached, and he immediately turned his phone over, resting it facedown on the table. 

“Hi,” he greeted her, smiling as she ran her fingers along the back of his neck.

“Such an annoying guy thing,” she observed somewhat saucily. “Finishing first.”

His eyes widened.

“In the bathroom, I mean.”

He cleared his throat.

Jemma smiled. “Feeling better?”

“Much.” 

“Good. Let’s see what else there is to do then, huh?” She reached out and he took her hand, allowing her to pull him up until he stood. 

She smiled as he pocketed his phone and gave her his full attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh. Imagine there’s a deleted scene for this where SHIELD gets a hold of those pictures and, much to Jemma’s horror, uses them in ads. But whatever. We’re suspending our disbelief, remember.


	13. Chapter 13

“So, how are things with you?” Jemma asked cheerfully.

“Fine.” The tone in Bobbi’s voice was more than suspicious. “But I have a feeling you didn’t want to have lunch so you could ask me that.”

Jemma bit her lip, trying to look innocent.

“Jemma.”

Jemma sighed, rather loudly, and put her utensils down. Glancing around the restaurant to make sure no one was close enough to overhear, she leaned forward. Bobbi met her partway. 

“Fitz – the, the guy I – ”

“I know who he is.”

“Yes, right. Him. He’s…been calling me. At work.”

Bobbi’s laughter was immediate and loud. She slapped a hand up to her mouth to quash it. “Sorry,” she eventually said. “I just didn’t realize you were far enough along to do something so kinky. Last I heard, you still weren’t even officially dating.”

“We aren’t,” Jemma clarified with a blush.

Bobbi narrowed her eyes in confusion, tilting her head to the side. “Then...?”

Jemma sighed, paused to lick her lips, and took a deep breath. She let it out slowly. “He doesn’t know it’s me,” she finally confessed.

Bobbi leaned back in her seat in shock. “Oh, Jemma,” she chastised.

Jemma propped her elbows on the table and buried her face in her hands. “I know,” she groaned. “I know! I’m a horrible person.”

“Tell me everything,” Bobbi demanded. “Start at the beginning.”

“I – I didn’t know,” Jemma started. “Not at first. He used a fake name, a fake American accent. He called a couple times but never actually…he didn’t…he didn’t get the full service. Just told me about how he was madly in love with his best friend who didn’t feel the same way. I tried to give him flirting tips!”

Bobbi closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. “Go on.”

“I felt so bad for him; he seemed like such a sweet guy. And I was feeling particularly frustrated with Fitz at the time too, because he was acting weird and I misinterpreted it. So, the third time he called, the conversation…took an unexpected turn.”

“You got him off.”

Jemma hesitated. “We got each other off.”

Bobbi’s eyes opened wide in surprise. “Jemma, you didn’t!”

“I did,” Jemma confessed, cringing. “And when he…you know, when he…” She made an awkward hand gesture.

“ _Came_. God, Jemma, it’s not like either of us don’t know exactly what you’re talking about. This story will go a lot faster if you stop acting like we’re both delicate, virginal flowers.”

“When he _came_ ,” Jemma continued, forcing the words out between gritted teeth. “He called out my name, my real name, and he lost the fake accent and I realized it was him.”

“And _why_ didn’t you just immediately say something to him?”

“Bobbi!” Jemma responded, affronted. “I signed a confidentiality contract!”

Bobbi shot her a look of condescending disbelief.

“And…and I thought I could maybe use the calls to my advantage,” Jemma admitted. “Learn things about what he wanted, give him a little encouragement to ask his crush out, that sort of thing.”

Bobbi held up her hands in a classic time-out gesture. “OK, so you didn’t want to straight up tell him. But you knew then that he liked you. Why didn’t _you_ just ask _him_ out?”

Jemma sighed, looking off in the distance. “I don’t know. I just…it’s been over a year, for both of us according to him, since we realized we wanted more. And I just thought of all the times over that year that I’d try to flirt or actually ask him out or something, and he’d just – shut down. Deflect or joke or be totally oblivious or something. Or more recently, go and call up _Jasmine_ to take care of any arousal I gave him. I think we were both so used to trying to keep our feelings secret or even denying them, playing the whole just friends angle, that it seemed almost second nature. I’m not sure he would have said yes, to be honest. And, look, just because I do what I do for my job, that doesn’t mean I have enough self-confidence to risk rejection in real life. Not from him.”

“OK,” Bobbi sighed. “Fine. So…he’s called since then? And I’m guessing you’ve continued to help him, shall we say, get his money’s worth.”

Jemma nodded.

“And you’ve been an active participant?”

Jemma nodded again, feeling the blush go over her face. 

“It can’t be as bad as it seems,” Bobbi declared optimistically. “How many times has this happened?”

Jemma paused. “About ten times,” she blurted. “In the last six weeks or so.”

Bobbi’s eyes bugged out. “ _What?!_ I thought you were going to say, like, two or three times. Oh my _God_ , Jemma.”

“I know,” Jemma confirmed, swallowing past a lump in her throat. “It’s gotten completely out of hand. I’ve even gone out of my way to make sure he doesn’t suspect anything, which is _so_... I – I don’t know how to deal with it. I can’t just _tell_ him now. It’s too late.”

“Why?”

“Bobbi!” Jemma responded, surprised. “I’ll – what if he hates me? What if he never talks to me again? I don’t want to lose him.”

Bobbi narrowed her eyes at Jemma. “That’s not the only reason.”

Jemma heaved a sigh and stared at the table. She traced a little pattern with her fingers as she thought. “What if,” she finally said. “What if he likes Jasmine better than boring old me?”

“Jemma,” Bobbi pointed out with a laugh. “You’re the same person.”

“We’re not though!” Jemma argued. “And he’s different too. I mean, what if it turns out _I_ like Finn better than Fitz?”

“Finn?” Bobbi observed dubiously.

Jemma ignored her and continued talking. “You don’t understand, Bobbi. All the things we say to each other, I can’t imagine we’d ever be like that in person. My whole life, I’ve done what’s expected of me. And with this, I get to be this – this bad girl who will do anything and everything. We’re so uninhibited with each other, and I’ve never…I’ve never been more… _satisfied_. What if the real thing can’t compete with the fantasy? How _could_ it?”

Bobbi sighed, running her hands down her face. Leaning forward again, she caught Jemma’s hands with her own and waited until they made eye contact. “Jemma,” she said softly. “The thing about, well, porn is that it doesn’t have to be what you’re into in real life, OK? It’s a great tool for exploring things that you’d never really do or want, consequence-free. And, hell, sometimes it might be exactly what you’d really do or want. But you’re right, it’s different. It will never be the real thing. And that’s a _good_ thing, Jemma. Sex, relationships, _love_ – it’s…it’s supposed to be messy and hard and awkward sometimes. It’s supposed to be about two people working through their insecurities and hang-ups and choosing to be with each other anyway. Trust me on this, OK? I’m speaking from personal experience here. Reality doesn’t have to compete with the fantasy. It’s so much _better_.”

Jemma blinked rapidly, staring at where their hands were joined. She swallowed. “But then there’s – there’s the fantasy from the other direction.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just think – I think part of the reason Fitz has never made a move, why he’s always been so unable to respond to mine. Why he…goes to her instead. I think he has me on this sort of pedestal, you know? This perfect girl he’s in love with from afar. Jasmine is the sort of girl you have crazy, hot, acrobatic sex with. I’m the sort of girl who…you worship. Who you’d never dream of doing anything naughty with or to. As much as he knows I’ve had boyfriends, I’m not sure he really believes I’m capable of, you know, lust, and certainly not for him. So, I’d ruin two fantasies – Jasmine the slutty temptress and Jemma the pure angel. He’d just be left with…something in between. Someone that’s not quite enough of either. Not to mention someone who’s been lying to him for weeks and taking advantage of him and using all of his innermost feelings and desires to – to – ”

“Jemma,” Bobbi interrupted. She squeezed Jemma’s hands briefly. “He’s going to be pissed. He’s going to be so angry at you, and so hurt, and so embarrassed.”

Jemma nodded miserably.

“ _But_ ,” Bobbi continued. “He’s also eventually going to realize that the woman he’s madly in love with is the same woman who’s been giving him apparently the best orgasms of his entire life with just her voice. I think that will _probably_ help him get over it. And I’m pretty sure, seeing as how you told me once that he’s an actual genius, he won’t be stupid enough to turn down the chance of having you for real in favor of whatever dreams he’s built up in his head.”

Jemma looked up, unable to stop the hopeful expression forming on her face. “You really think so?”

“You’ll never know until you tell him.”

Jemma swallowed. “I’ve got to tell him.” She nodded to herself and repeated in a firmer tone, “I’ve got to tell him.”

Then she looked over at her uneaten lunch and pushed the plate away. She felt like she was going to be sick.

**

She had to tell him.

But oh God, how? 

It was four whole days later by the time she finally worked up enough courage to even make the first effort. She sat down at their usual lunch table, where he was already halfway through his meal, and immediately turned to face him.

“Fitz?”

He swallowed his bite, then looked over at her with a smile. “Hey, Jemma.”

“Fitz,” she began again, feeling like she couldn’t quite get a complete breath. “There’s something – I want to talk to you about something.”

At her tone, he put down his sandwich and turned to face her. The expression on his face was supportive and concerned, and Jemma felt her stomach start to churn in guilt and fear. 

“Is everything OK?”

She waved a hand quickly and then held it to her mouth, shaking her head. “Yeah,” she said. “Just…it’s personal, so not here, OK? Can you come over tonight?”

“Yeah, sure. Absolutely. But you’re OK?”

“I’m fine.”

He stared at her for another moment, but before he could speak again, Skye sat down in an excited whirlwind.

“Guess what!”

Jemma forced a smile as she faced her friend.

“Lincoln asked you out,” she guessed.

“Who? Oh, no. He’s so last week, Jemma. No – Phil and Audrey have a new foster daughter! I’m a big sister!”

“What? Skye, that’s great!”

“I didn’t even know they were considering another one,” Fitz said.

Skye looked at him, shaking her head. “No, they weren’t. But these things happen fast. And you know Phil would never turn down a kid who needed a home. She’s the cutest thing, too. Three months old.”

Jemma exhaled in a squeaky sort of adoring shock. “A _baby_?”

Skye clapped her hands. “A baby! We want you all to come over tonight and meet her.”

“Oh!” Fitz glanced at Jemma. “We can’t. I – Jemma – ”

“It can wait, Fitz,” Jemma reassured him, maybe a little too quickly. “Really. A baby!”

She tried to convince herself that she wasn’t the slightest bit relieved at the unexpected reprieve.

**

Fitz wasn’t a biologist, but every once in a while, he was reminded of how very much humans were driven by the same sort of evolutionary impulses as any other animal.

Case in point: Jemma holding a tiny baby.

Fitz couldn’t stop staring. God, he wasn’t even ready for a kid. But, wow, did she ever look beautiful and happy and sexy holding one. He imagined how she’d look pregnant, carrying their own child. He imagined late nights with a baby held to her breast, himself with his arms wrapped around them both. 

He coughed, then swallowed quickly past the emotion in his throat. Jemma glanced up at him, grinning, the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the window glinting off her hair. _Holy –_

“Here, Fitz,” she said, standing and handing him the baby before he could stop her.

He looked down in surprise at the little face as he repositioned the bundle in his arms.

“Wow,” he murmured.

“You’re a natural,” Jemma observed, her voice strangely thick.

Fitz looked up then, catching Jemma watching him with an expression he couldn’t quite make sense of. She inhaled deeply, one hand going up to her neck. And then she seemed to blush and turned away, stepping closer to Audrey.

Fitz looked down at the baby again.

The impromptu Welcome Home, Baby party lasted several more hours, long after the baby was tucked away in her crib. As they were leaving, though, Fitz pulled Jemma aside. 

“Did you still want to talk?” he asked. “I can come over.”

She seemed to waver uncertainly. “No,” she finally said. “No, it can wait. Thanks.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Go home, Fitz. It’s late.”

“OK,” he agreed. “But we’ll find some other time.”

He turned to walk towards his car, and she called out his name again. When he faced her, she surprised him by launching her arms around him in a hug. He froze for a moment, and then brought his own arms up, pulling her closer.

“Jemma?”

“You’re my best friend in the world, Fitz,” she whispered urgently in his ear.

Fitz’ heart clenched. He tried to remind himself that used to be enough for him. He tried to convince himself that it didn’t hurt that that was all she saw him as, all she apparently ever would.

**

The next night, Fitz was still feeling weirdly conflicted about the whole thing. He couldn’t stop remembering Jemma with the baby and his unexpected response to it. And he couldn’t stop remembering the way she had unknowingly rejected him at the end of the night.

He sighed and closed his eyes. Then he drained the bottle of beer in his hand and placed it on the coffee table. Just next to it, his mobile rested, and Fitz reached out to pick it up.

He thought about calling Jemma, seeing what she wanted to talk about. Even some small part of him thought about just putting it all on the line. End any hope once and for all. Just get it over with and confess so he could finally move on.

He didn’t though. Instead, he opened the pictures he had saved to his phone. He cleared his throat lightly, shifting in his chair and already feeling his body start to take notice of the proceedings.

He looked at the first one for a long time, admiring the color of her lipstick, the slick shine of her tongue curled along the smooth head of the toy. He licked his own lips, and then swiped to the next picture. In many ways, this one was his favorite. He was self-aware enough to admit he was a total boob man. He had looked at this one many, many times in the week or so since the fair. 

His breath turned a little shaky as his eyes roved over the picture. Her breasts were unbelievable. And the hint of a nipple was entirely too distracting. He noticed something new this time, though, and he was pretty sure it was immediately his favorite part: the freckles sprinkled across her chest. Little tiny marks that could have messed up the perfect expanse of skin but actually made it all the hotter. The pattern of them was familiar, somehow, and Fitz felt if he wasn’t buzzed – ok, he wasn’t buzzed. Be honest. If he wasn’t rock hard – he might be able to remember where he had seen something like it before.

He exhaled roughly, pressing his free hand down firmly onto his groin and then adjusting himself. He thought about sliding the screen to the next picture, the one with her… He closed his eyes, shivering slightly as he breathed out again.

And then he stood, closing the pictures folder and beginning to dial as he walked into his room. Maybe Jemma didn’t see him as more than a friend. Maybe she never would.

But Jasmine sure as hell did.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra long chapter this time!

Jemma glanced at her ringing mobile, then back at the book she was reading. Then she sighed loudly and inserted the bookmark. She stretched out her fingers and grabbed the phone, answering the call even as she brought it up to her ear. 

“My name’s Jasmine; what’s yours, baby?”

“Hi, it’s me.”

Jemma froze. Her mouth opened and closed a bit, and she wondered how exactly this affected her decision to tell him the truth. Should she just tell him now? God, she couldn’t. Not over the phone. Not without being able to see his face. But she couldn’t just not take this call either. She couldn’t hang up.

Maybe – maybe it’d be OK to just…one last time. Who knows what will happen when she tells him? She’d at least have the memory of this. 

She knew, deep down, that the justification was weak but – 

“Jasmine?”

“Sorry. Sorry, Finn. I’m here.”

“Everything OK?”

“It’s…been a stressful couple days.”

He paused. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jemma buried her face in her hand. He was ridiculously sweet. She almost hated him for it sometimes. 

“No, Finn,” she eventually answered. “I want some stress relief, though. Can you please give me that?”

“Yeah,” he replied, and she could almost hear him nodding. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Jemma nodded as well, deciding impulsively to stay in her living room this time. No bed. No vibrator. Try to keep some sort of distance, even if she knew there was no chance she wouldn’t…participate. She stretched out on her couch, moving her shoulders a bit as she settled. And then she immediately reached down with her free hand.

“I could – ” he began. “I could kiss your neck? Or…or, I don’t know, give you a massage?”

She almost laughed at his confused tone, at how clearly he wanted to find something that would make her feel better. But none of that would. She didn’t want sweet or romantic or slow. She didn’t want anything that seemed too personal. She wanted to get off, now, and forget for a moment that this would be the last time.

“No, Finn,” she responded firmly. “I don’t want that. I don’t want to think or feel. I want something rough and kinky and hot.”

He was silent for a long moment. Jemma closed her eyes and tried to calm her breathing. And when he began to speak again, his voice silky smooth, she sighed. She slid her fingers lower and began to rub concentric circles through her shorts.

“I was looking at those pictures just now,” he was saying, and Jemma grinned. “Your body is – gorgeous. Thank you for sending them to me.”

“Mmm,” Jemma moaned, tilting her hips up as she started rubbing slightly faster. “I wish I could see your body.”

“I – I could send you…”

“No, Finn. No, you shouldn’t. It’s a company phone. I shouldn’t have even sent you mine.”

“Well, I’m fucking glad you did.”

“Oh God,” Jemma groaned. “I love when you swear.”

“Those pictures are _fucking_ hot,” he growled, emphasizing the curse.

“Which – which one did you like best?”

“The, ah, the second one. The one with...”

Jemma’s eyes fluttered open as she realized what he was planning to suggest. Yes. Perfect. “Would you like to try that, Finn?”

The only answer was a very shaky breath. Jemma took that as a yes, but she wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily.

“You have to ask me for it, Finn. We won’t do it unless you say the words.”

“Oh God, Jasmine. I want – to do that.”

“Say it, Finn.”

“I want – ” his voice was little more than a croak at this point. “Ti – tittyfucking. I want – ”

Jemma smiled, strangely proud of him. She remembered back to his earliest calls, when he could barely say anything. He was still adorably shy about certain dirty talk terms even now, but…

“I want that too, Finn. I want your cock rubbing against my chest.

“ _Ffff –_ ”

“That’s right, Finn.” Jemma looked somewhat dazedly at the ceiling. She could tell already that her hand wasn’t going to be enough. She glanced around, then pulled herself up and shifted to her knees.

She continued talking as she crawled over to the end of the couch. “Slide in between my breasts. I can – I can hold them together, make the channel nice and tight.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. 

Jemma rested her head on the back of the couch even as she straddled the arm and leaned forward. The firm pressure from it felt amazing against her, and she planted her foot on the ground. She used that contact, and the support of the couch cushion beneath her other knee, to push forward. 

If she had any sort of sense anymore, she’d probably be ashamed to realize she had become the type of person who humped their own furniture. 

She didn’t care.

“Look down, Finn. You can see your cock disappearing between two round, pert mounds.”

“In and out,” he whispered. “And the tip pokes out at the top. Just like…”

“Just like in the picture,” she agreed. “But so much better, because it’s you this time.”

“Oh – oh God, can you…”

“What, Finn? What do you want me to do?”

“Play with your nipples.”

“Yes,” Jemma moaned, reaching her free hand up and squeezing softly at one breast before sliding her fingers to the nipple. She lightly pinched it through her shirt, barely putting any pressure on it at all, and then she tugged it. Her breath was coming fast and heavy, and she smiled as the nipple tightened into a hard nub. “Feels so good.”

“Fuck, Jasmine. So, I’m – I’m thrusting up between your breasts, leaking, and it’s helping the slide. It’s getting all over your skin. I can see it glistening.”

Jemma exhaled roughly, leaning forward to rest her head on the cushion again as her hips started bucking even faster against the arm of the couch

“Do you like that, Finn? Do you like seeing your seed smeared all over my skin?”

“Hell yes.”

“Good. Me too. Are you getting close? Where do you want to come, Finn? On my breasts? Do you want to move up with that last thrust and come on my chin, on my face? In my mouth?”

“Fuck, fuck,” he gritted out. “I can’t decide.”

Jemma shook her head, her eyes squeezing shut. She could feel all her muscles clenching and quivering and knew she didn’t have much time left.

“I’d let you come anywhere,” she promised him. “Everywhere. I want you to claim me, Finn. Mark your territory. Come on my face, on my throat, on my breasts. Oh God, come on me, inside me. I’d let you, you know? I’d let you come on my stomach, on my back, in – in my arse.”

He moaned something loudly, but Jemma couldn’t quite make it out. She knew that would get to him, though. She had certainly picked up on more than one hint, more than one suggestion that got him extra excited. But she wasn’t done yet. “I’d let you come inside me,” she declared. “No barrier.”

“Oh, fuck. Je – just – I want to.”

“I know you do, Finn. I want it too. I want you to fill me. I want to feel you dripping out of me afterwards.”

“I want – I want – ”

“Yes, Finn. Yes!” she gasped, her breaths coming sharp and shallow.

“To put a baby in you.”

Not since their first time had Jemma experienced such a record-scratching moment immediately followed by a record-breaking orgasm. She yelled out, collapsing against the couch, her mouth wide open against the upholstery as she tried to catch her breath.

What.

She could hear him on the other end, panting with exertion and pleasure, groaning loudly as he came. And then he was silent too. Jemma couldn’t find the strength to move, and they both just listened to each other calm down.

“I…was not expecting that,” Jemma finally said, trying to turn it into a joke.

“I – Me neither. Don’t know where that came from.” He sounded so embarrassed, and Jemma smirked in realization. Suddenly the way he was looking at her the previous day made a lot more sense. And she finally could admit she had been looking at him the same way. For the same reason. 

“I clearly liked the idea,” she whispered.

“Me too.” There was a very long pause, one that seemed different than it usually did when he was trying to think of something to say or feeling self-conscious. Finally he spoke. “I think we should take a break for a while.”

Jemma’s euphoria immediately fractured and she felt tears prick at her eyes. In some ways, it could be the answer to all her problems, but it certainly didn’t feel that way. It was too soon. She wasn’t ready for this; she hadn’t prepared herself for it. She knew, she was certain, that Fitz would want nothing to do with her anymore. She was bracing herself for that. She expected it. 

She hadn’t expected him to try to end _this_ before he even knew the truth. Especially not right after they had both… 

“No,” she said, practically hyperventilating. “No, no, no.”

“Jasmine…”

“Please, don’t. Who are we hurting?”

“We’re…hurting each other.”

“Isn’t this better than nothing? I know it’s not perfect, but – ”

“Wouldn’t you rather have something real?”

“Isn’t this real? In its own way? Is it worth risking what we do have for – I mean, it’s not settling. It’s not. It’s more than I ever hoped possible.”

“Jasmine, I – ”

“Oh, Finn. I don’t want to lose you. I’m going to lose you, aren’t I? I’m going to lose everything.”

“I have to…go. I have to think.”

“Please, Fi – !”

There was a click, and she knew he had hung up. Jemma pressed her face into the couch and sobbed.

**

Jemma did not go into campus the next day. All of her experiments could wait. She needed to spend the morning in bed, hugging the stuffed monkey from the fair and hiding under the covers. She didn’t surface until lunchtime, when her phone buzzed. And even then, she only reached one hand out and groped around until she found it on her bedside table.

_Fitz: Where are you?_

Jemma sighed. _I don’t feel well_ , she typed back. 

_Fitz: :( Feel better! The lunch table isn’t the same without you._

Jemma didn’t respond. She just returned the phone to the table and curled up into the fetal position. Considering she was supposed to be a genius, it was rather impressive how much she had managed to screw up her life.

By the afternoon, she was feeling motivated enough to move from her bed to her couch. She stared at the TV for a couple hours, not really conscious of what was playing. It was around 6 when the knocking on the door snapped her out of her coma-like state. She looked over at it, finally standing when whoever it was knocked again.

She walked over and pulled it open. “Fitz!”

He smiled broadly at her and then pushed past her to put his shopping bags on the counter. 

“I have chicken soup,” he announced, pulling items out of the bags. “And…I didn’t know so, um, Nyquil and Pepto and – and some Midol? Skye told me that was what to get for… Anyway, and I thought maybe it was a mental health day, so…bubble wrap and Disney movies.”

He turned to face her, clearly somewhat nervous and hopeful for praise. Jemma’s lips quivered as she fought between smiling and crying. 

“I can go,” he offered. “If you don’t want company. Or…I can…”

“Stay,” she whispered.

**

She went back to work the next day, and perhaps she went too far in the opposite direction. She buried herself in her work. It was three days later when she got another text at lunchtime.

_Fitz: Where are you?_

_In the lab_ , she responded, before tossing her phone aside and looking into her microscope again. She made a couple notes on the pad next to her and then adjusted the focus.

She wasn’t aware how much time had passed when suddenly she heard Fitz clear his throat. She looked up in surprise. He held up a sandwich.

“Get that out of the lab!” she nearly yelled.

He spluttered for a response, and she hopped off the stool. She rushed over to him and pushed him out of the room.

“Just _tryin’_ – ”

“ – lab safety protocols – ”

“ – have to _eat_ something, Jemma – ”

“ – contamination. Ruin the whole – ”

They eventually stopped talking over each other, and instead glared, breathing heavily as they faced off in the hallway. Finally, he exhaled loudly.

“You missed lunch.”

“I know, Fitz. I can miss one lunch and survive.”

“You’ve missed lunch the last three days.”

Jemma sighed, looking up to the ceiling to evade his gaze. “I’m about to make a breakthrough, Fitz.” It wasn’t a lie, at least. “The GH325 formula, I think I’ve figured it out.”

He grinned and stepped closer. “Jemma, that’s fantastic.”

“Yes, so. See, I’m really busy.”

He stepped closer again. “And I don’t fancy having to rush you to the hospital again because you collapsed from exhaustion or – or hunger, all right? You’re still getting over whatever you had the other day.”

“Fitz, I – ”

“You have to save the world, I know. So, please. Let me take care of you while you take care of everyone else.”

Jemma stared up at him and swallowed. And then she looked down at the sandwich he offered to her. She reached out and took it.

“Thank you, Fitz,” she murmured.

“It really is wonderful about the formula,” he conceded. “You’re bloody amazing.”

Jemma looked up at him again, almost surprised to see the unguarded adoration in his eyes. His gaze dropped to her lips, and Jemma forgot to breathe for a second. And then he forced a smile and stepped back. She tried not to let her disappointment show.

**

That night, Jemma was not being nearly as successful or productive with her temp job as she had been in the lab that day. She spent the whole time thinking about everything going on with Fitz. It had taken unusually long to…provide quality service to her most recent client. And even then, it hadn’t been the response she was used to getting from him.

She rubbed at her eyes and considered just calling into the switchboard and telling them to take her off the roster for the night. She glanced at the clock and sighed. Only 20 more minutes of her shift, anyway. They may not even send her another call, unless they were really bu – 

The mobile rang.

Jemma growled and slapped her hand over it, pulling it up from the coffee table with a sharp jerk. She took a breath to calm herself and then answered the call. “Hi, hot stuff.”

“Hi, Jasmine.”

She froze, absolutely paralyzed. She wasn’t quite able to identify what she was feeling but she worried that if she opened her mouth right then, she’d either start sobbing, vomiting, or yelling. Not again. She couldn’t believe that he had chosen Jasmine again. 

“Jasmine?”

“Finn,” she managed to say.

There was a long pause, and then he heaved a breath. “I just – I called to say…Jasmine, the thing is – I’ve been thinking a lot about this, and…”

“What, Finn?” she whispered.

“I – I don’t want to take a break.”

She collapsed onto her couch, mostly so she wouldn’t immediately storm out the door and over to his place to hit him upside the head. 

“I want to stop calling entirely.”

Jemma sat up again, with a sharp inhalation. Her heart started pounding, and she felt tears start to pool in the corners of her eyes.

“Why?” she demanded, feeling incredibly hopeful about the answer but trying to sound disappointed. Which wasn’t that hard because, yes, there was still a small, insane part of her that actually was.

“I’m – I still love Jemma. I’m sorry. She’s always been the one for me. I really, really, _really_ like you, but…this has gotten…”

“Out of control?”

“Entirely. It’s just – it’s too intense, and Jasmine, we both know it’s not – ”

“It’s not real,” she concluded, pressing her fingers to her lips to stop her grin.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“It’s OK, Finn. It really is. I’m happy for you.”

“You are?”

“Yes. Good luck with Jemma. But I don’t think you’ll need it.”

He sighed. “I still don’t know if she even…I have to try.”

“She’d be a fool.”

They were both silent again. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Anyway.”

She took a deep breath. “Goodbye, Finn.”

“Jasmine,” his voice croaked a bit. “Thank you. For everything. You have – no idea.”

“No, Finn. Thank you.”

She hung up and immediately threw the phone aside, lunging for her personal mobile. Dialing without even really looking, she fell onto her back on the couch and slapped her free hand over her mouth to stop from screaming.

“Hello?” He sounded rather surprised that she was calling, like he had managed to conjure her just by talking about her to someone else. 

“Hey,” she said faux-casually, throwing her arm across her forehead to help sell the attitude. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Um…watching tv.”

_Liar._

“Actually…I’m thinking of you.”

Jemma grinned. _I know._

“Huh, really? What about me?” 

“Um…” _Come on, Fitzy._ “No, you know what? Can I come over? I need to talk.”

Jemma’s grin got impossibly wider. “Absolutely,” she murmured.

She hung up before he could say anything else, too excited to even say goodbye. This was it. It was finally happening. She glanced at the clock. Technically still 10 minutes on her shift, but that was fine. It’d take him at least 15 to get there. And more importantly, she thought as she stood up, it gave her enough time to…prepare.

“Sexy lingerie,” she began making a list to herself. “No time to shower but I should at least run a razor over my legs. Oh! Change the sheets?”

She stopped suddenly in dismay when the work mobile rang again.

_What._

“How busy _are_ they?!” she asked the empty room.

She dove across the couch for the phone, prepared to do some of her quickest work ever.

**

She was just fast enough, hanging up right when he knocked on the door. At least she’ll get a few minutes overtime. She stood, quickly running to the door, tossing the mobile toward its usual hiding spot between the fridge and toaster as she passed the counter.

“Hi,” she greeted cheerfully, opening the door wide.

Fitz smiled weakly back at her, looking ill. _Don’t be nervous, Fitz. This will go well for you._

“Hi,” he replied.

“Come in!”

She stepped out of the way and then immediately remembered the rather dire, mismatched, granny-style bra and knickers situation she had going on underneath her clothes. It was probably OK. He probably wouldn’t see them. It really wasn’t going to go that far tonight. Was it?

“Hey, Fitz,” she blurted. “I just got done with work, and it was super busy. I really…have to…pee. Just make yourself comfortable; I’ll be right back.”

She could feel him watching after her in surprise as she raced off to her bedroom and closed the door behind her. She tugged the dresser drawer open and grabbed the first sort of sexy pair she could find. 

“Hey Jemma? What did you want to talk about the other day, by the way?” he shouted from the other room.

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Fitz!” she called back. “We can talk about whatever _you_ want.”

She was already unbuttoning her trousers by the time she made it to the en suite.

It was something of a farce, and she nearly fell over three times while changing. Finally she had her clothes on again, and her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. Could she – was there time to redo her make-up? No, probably not.

“Hey Jemma?”

“Hmm?!” she garbled around the toothbrush. This would go so much faster if he stopped interrupting her.

“Your mobile’s ringing. You want me to get it?”

Oh, crap. It might be Skye. They’d been playing phone tag all day. She spat out the toothpaste in her mouth and quickly rinsed.

“Yeah, could you? It’s probably Skye.”

She poured some mouthwash for good measure and began swishing it around. 

“Oh, new phone, huh?” 

She swallowed a bit of the mouthwash in panic and immediately began coughing, bending over to spit the rest out. She tried to call out, tell him to stop, but she couldn’t breathe. She whirled, grabbed the doorknob, and nearly slipped on her discarded knickers as she ran out of the bathroom.

**

“Hello?” Fitz asked. He didn’t want to just assume it was Skye – it seemed Jemma still hadn’t gotten around to updating her contacts on the new phone.

“Who the hell is this?”

“Um…Fitz? Who’s this?”

The guy on the other end immediately started grumbling. “Fucking SHIELD, man. Ask for Jasmine and they give me a dude.”

Fitz didn’t even hear the man hang up on the other end. He didn’t hear much of anything except a weird, rushing noise through his head. Was this what a stroke felt like?

There was a clattering noise as Jemma’s bedroom door opened and she nearly fell through it before stumbling to a stop. They stared at each other for a while, and Fitz couldn’t even begin to find English words. He shifted his stance, waiting…waiting to wake up from this nightmare, actually.

“Fitz,” she said, holding one hand out in a calming gesture.

“I’m gonna be sick,” he managed to whisper.

He slowly set the mobile on the counter and then immediately turned toward the front door. He was almost there by the time she caught up to him and grabbed him by the arm. He stopped in his tracks, turning his head just enough to see her fingers gripping him but not enough to see her face.

“Simmons, let go,” he begged.

She did, and he left the apartment without another word, slamming the door behind him. As he stomped down the hall, he could hear quiet sobbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was quite some time after I initially wrote this chapter that I realized how much some of it is, let’s say, an homage to Bridget Jones. Thanks, Bridget Jones.
> 
> Also, I suppose now is not a good time to say I _probably_ won’t be able to update for a few days due to real life. *runs away*


	15. Chapter 15

Jemma picked very carefully at her lunch, with absolutely no intention of actually eating it. She’d just lose it again. Across from her, Trip and Skye were watching her and occasionally sharing concerned glances. But she was far too focused on trying to sense the exact moment Fitz walked into the room. There had been no sign of him the past three days, but she had heard that he was finally on campus again. She suspected it was too soon for him to be ready to talk to her, but maybe – it was possible – 

She noticed Skye looking across the room, towards the entrance Fitz typically came in through. She felt her heart start to race, and she wanted to turn to look but she felt frozen to her seat. And when Skye’s shoulders slumped and she looked at Trip again, Jemma just knew. She blinked rapidly.

He had probably caught one glimpse of her and left.

“What’s going on, girl?” Trip finally asked.

She shook her head, pursing her lips together. 

“You’ve looked like your pet was run over for the last three days, and Fitz hasn’t been seen at all in the same amount of time. Something’s going on,” Skye pointed out. 

“I – he – just – we had a fight.”

Skye threw her hands up in the air. “OK, so make up. When FitzSimmons aren’t talking, it’s like the world is spinning off its axis.”

Jemma closed her eyes briefly as she swallowed. She looked over at Trip, who gave her a little supportive smile even while rolling his eyes in Skye’s direction.

“Seriously,” Skye continued. “I’m gonna lock you in a broom closet or something until you make up. Or make out, bow chicka wow wow.”

Jemma grimaced. “Skye. Don’t.”

“It was a joke!”

“Just. I did something horrible, OK? He’s rightfully upset with me and you interfering or even just making your stupid jokes won’t help anything. The only thing I can do is give him whatever space and time he needs and hope he’ll talk to me again someday.”

“What could you have possibly done that was that bad?” Trip asked, clearly trying to be a comforting voice of reason. If he only knew.

“Oh my God,” Skye said, her eyes widening. “He asked you out, didn’t he? He asked you out and you said no. Jemma! You’re crazy about him! I don’t – ”

“No, Skye. It wasn’t that.”

“Then what?!”

“I can’t tell you,” Jemma declared, choking back tears as she stood up from the table and grabbed her uneaten lunch. “It’s private! Let it go!”

**

Fitz stared at his bedroom ceiling. It was spinning a bit but he suspected that had something to do with the two-or-was-it-three shots he had tossed back on an empty stomach as soon as he got home. He thought that, after three days of sitting in his pants in his dark living room playing video games, he was finally ready to rejoin the world. That had lasted until lunchtime, when his muscle memory brought him to their usual meeting spot. He had spotted her immediately, and had nearly thrown up on his own shoes right then. He left before she could realize he was there and turn around to look at him. He didn’t think he could face her right now.

He had never been so hurt and confused and ashamed and angry and _humiliated_ in his life. God. _God_. He didn’t understand it. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea that Jemma – his Jemma, his best friend, the person he trusted with his life – would, would, would take advantage of him like that. Would lie to him and let him say all those things, let him _do_ all those things. And it wasn’t like she just idly didn’t stop it. She actively deceived him about it. 

He wanted an explanation. He needed one. And an apology. 

No. He didn’t. He wanted nothing to do with her anymore. No explanation or apology could be good enough. Anyone who could treat someone this way was not his friend.

Fitz pulled himself to a seating position, trying not to puke up the liquor at the sudden shift. And then he grabbed his mobile off the table. He’d take her off his contacts list, the ultimate symbol. He’d never talk to her again. They weren’t friends anymore.

He swiped his finger over the screen, unlocking it. His finger hovered over his contacts and then, almost involuntarily, it moved over to the pictures folder. He opened the file and collapsed back onto his pillows with a sigh. 

He should delete these too. This was probably the most confusing part of it all. He couldn’t come up with one single good reason why she would send these to him. Except maybe, of course, so he would think they came from someone else. It was some kind of Clark Kent and Superman subterfuge, it had to be. He remembered how the messages all came in right after she had groped around in her purse that day at the fair – oh God, the day at the fair, how they held hands and how he couldn’t keep his eyes off her and how he was convinced something was finally happening between them…but then the _bathroom_. Was the thought of actually being with him too – something, too _disgusting_? Was she using his feelings for her to get herself aroused, to make herself feel desired, but only acting upon them when she didn’t have to look at him? When she could pretend it was someone else? 

God, he needed to delete the pictures. He needed to – stop staring at them, for one thing, and just delete them for good. 

The ridiculous thing, the absolutely stupidly ridiculous thing, was that whenever he felt this confused about Jemma before, the one person he could talk to, the one person who felt like a true confidante, was freaking _Jasmine_.

 _That’s_ who he should talk to. It would serve her right, make her think he’d rather – _that_ relationship was worth more to her than their friendship?! _Would I ever lie to you, Finn?_ All she wanted was to manipulate him, to control him and his feelings for her – his _past_ feelings for her, because he’d never – he couldn’t – he wouldn’t. Not anymore.

“Goddammit,” Fitz muttered to himself, dialing from memory. He had some things he wanted to say to _Jasmine_ , and he had just enough liquor in him to make that call. 

“SHIELD S – ”

“Princess Jasmine. Finn,” he spat out.

He went through the whole, essentially memorized process with them, and oh God, it made him sick to think about. How much of a pro he was at this. That he was actually a regular for this company. That he had spent so much money on… what kind of twisted perv – and he had actually let himself believe she cared about him too! Believe that he cared for her right back! Which somehow made it all _worse_. 

“I’m so happy you called.”

Despite the affected erotic tone, his whole body shut down. She had to choose that opener, didn’t she? She had to answer the phone with the exact words he wished he could hear Jemma say. His throat seized up and he couldn’t breathe. 

And good Lord, how many times had he observed how very much Jasmine sounded like Jemma? He almost deserved this for his own deliberately blind stupidity. 

“Hello?” she said, but he couldn’t respond. All the scathing comments he wanted to shout at her clawed desperately at his throat but couldn’t escape. She was quiet for a few more moments, then inhaled sharply.

“Finn?” she whispered. And then seconds later, louder but with audible tears, “Fitz, is that you? Please…let me explain.”

He hung up.

**

Jemma felt something brush against her sleeve, and she picked her head up off Bobbi’s lap to see what it was. Clint placed the box of Kleenex next to her and slowly backed away again. Jemma burst into renewed sobs. She hadn’t done much of anything else since Bobbi opened her door, took one look at Jemma, and pulled her into a hug.

**

Fitz opened his front door warily. Lance and Mack stood next to each other, with Mack obviously taking up most of the space in the doorway. Lance held up a six-pack, and Fitz stepped aside to let them in.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he told them.

“Fair enough, man,” Mack said. “But just be aware, if you don’t, we’ll just have to listen to Hunter bitch about his exes.”

“Or worse,” Lance shot back, “the quinoa thing again.”

“Jemma’s not my ex,” Fitz declared as he sat on the couch and pulled a bottle from the pack. “And there’s nothing to talk about, because there’s nothing to resolve.”

“Whatever, mate,” Lance responded, a bit sarcastically. “You two have been dancing around something for years. You need to figure it out or you’ll never forgive yourself.”

“I’m not the one that needs forgiving,” Fitz muttered and took a sip. He kind of hated the niggling feeling that told him maybe that wasn’t entirely true.

**

Through some amazing feat of willpower, Fitz managed to concentrate on something else for all of ten minutes. He was in the middle of making a mental to-do list for his ongoing projects, as well as cleaning his flat, when the phone rang. He walked over and grabbed it off the coffee table, then froze when he saw the number.

“What the _hell_?” he muttered. He answered the call and slowly lifted the mobile to his ear. “Hello?”

“Mr. Finn?”

“…Yes.”

“Hello, my name is April. I wanted to let you know that your regular provider, Princess Jasmine, no longer works for SHIELD Services.” Fitz dropped to the couch in surprise. He blinked a couple times, not really processing what she was saying. “In these situations, it is company policy to offer frequent clients one free call to a new provider of their choosing to ensure continued satisfaction. We have several recommendations of providers who offer similar – ”

“No,” Fitz finally managed to say. “Uh, no. Thank you.”

He hung up and stared blankly ahead for a while. And then he stood up abruptly and headed for the front door, grabbing his keys off the table as he passed it.

**

Jemma opened her flat door and then immediately felt frozen to the spot. She had never _dreamed_ that he – she had so much she wanted to say to him, and now that he was here –

“Why’d you quit?” he asked, and she had to admit that was not what she expecting him to lead with.

Her mouth opened and closed a bit. “I should think that’d be obvious,” she finally said. 

He moved to walk into the flat, and Jemma quickly stepped aside, allowing him through the door. She watched in confusion as he began to pace up and down the little section of carpet between her living room and kitchen counter. 

“Nothing you do is obvious to me anymore,” he eventually said.

Jemma swallowed past the lump in her throat. Then she walked farther into the room, passing him to stand on the other side of the living room while maintaining a respectful distance. “I’m so sorry, Fitz,” she breathed out, thankful she finally got a chance to say it. “I know you’re angry.”

He shook his head quickly. “I’m not angry.”

She hesitated. “Upset then.”

“No,” he shook his head again, continuing to pace, continuing to avoid her eyes. “I mean, yes. I _am_ angry, and I _am_ upset, but I’m mostly…” He stopped walking, keeping his back to her. “You broke my heart,” he finally said. Then he began pacing again. “The person I thought you were would never have done something like that to me.”

Jemma blinked the tears out of her eyes. “Fitz, please look at me.”

He responded immediately, whirling to face her. “How could you not have told me?” he yelled.

“I don’t know!” she inhaled a shaky breath. “I don’t know. At first, I was embarrassed. I thought you had found out and – ”

The look he shot her was painfully incredulous. “ _You_ were embarrassed?! All the things I said – ” he cut himself off quickly, swallowing rapidly.

“You’re remembering that,” Jemma tried to point out. “But you’re not remembering how I responded to you.”

“Because you were paid to!” he shouted back.

Jemma shook her head quickly, licking her lips and then taking a breath. “No. No, it wasn’t because of that. Fitz – ”

He suddenly wrapped his arms around his waist and bent over double. “Did you – oh God, with other guys, did you – ”

“No!” Jemma responded as firmly as possible. “You were the only one.”

He straightened again, until he was looking at the ceiling. “Funnily enough, that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Jemma covered her face with her hands, one sharp sob escaping her. “Oh God,” she moaned into her palms. “What you must think of me, doing that for money.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, but she couldn’t bring herself to look. When he spoke, his voice had taken on a new tone, something she couldn’t quite identify. “Is it any worse than being the one who…”

When he didn’t continue, she forced herself to look. He was half-turned from her, his hands hooked around his lower back as he stared at the floor. “I should go,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

He was almost to the door before she found her voice. “Fitz, please! Don’t go.” He stopped but didn’t turn back. “I – I love you,” she whispered.

When he faced her again, it was with perhaps the most painful expression he had given her yet. He shook his head. “You’ve never…it’s just because I…the power of suggestion or something.”

“No,” Jemma refuted, trying not to sob again.

Fitz began to walk towards her again. He lifted his hands to run them through his hair. “How can I believe anything you say? How can I trust you? You’ve been manipulating me for weeks, and now I’m supposed to believe you love me?”

Jemma felt a flash of anger spark through her. “ _You’re_ the one,” she spat out almost against her will, “who constantly turned to someone else while claiming to be in love with me! You spent _hundreds_ of dollars letting some _stranger_ see that side of you, be that way with you. I’d – I’d flirt with you and you’d just – you’d call _her_ instead…”

She broke off. The expression on his face was some sickening mix of horror and guilt, hurt and shock. Jemma took a deep breath, walked over to her couch, and slowly sank down. “I’m sorry, Fitz,” she continued. “That was – I know I shouldn’t be mad at you. I know I’m the one who messed up here.”

She looked up in surprise as he stepped close enough to sit down on the arm of the couch. He faced forward, and she watched as he searched for a response, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek.

“No, you’re right,” he finally said, still not looking at her. “I’m pretty fricking pissed with myself, so I can’t blame you for feeling the same way. We are both… _seriously_ messed up people.”

Jemma made a small noise of agreement, and then they were both silent. She wasn’t sure how much time passed, and she was at a total loss for what to say next. And then he spoke, just barely above a whisper, and she felt her heart clutch at his question.

“You really love me?”

“I have for ages,” she confirmed quietly. “Long before – any of this. As long as you – I realized then too. When I was in the hospital last year. I woke up and there you were, looking back at me. And I just knew. It was like you were Prince Charming, and I was Snow White or Sleeping Beauty… _not_ Princess Jasmine.”

The snort that came out of Fitz seemed entirely involuntary. He finally turned his head to her and they made eye contact. And then they both burst into laughter. Jemma tried to get control of herself, but it proved impossible. Soon she had her arms wrapped around her stomach, which was starting to hurt from the exertion, and her feet resting on the coffee table. Fitz slid off the arm of the couch onto the cushion and leaned forward to bury his face in his arms. The sight of his shoulders shaking set her off again, and she dropped her head against the back of the couch.

Eventually, they both started to calm and Fitz lifted his head. “You know,” he said, his voice wobbly from amusement more than anything else. “When I brought over Disney movies the other day, I almost brought Aladdin and then thought better of it. Didn’t want you to think I was some sort of pervert when I got a hard-on for a cartoon character.”

Jemma snickered, shifting as she crossed one leg underneath her. She grabbed a throw pillow and rested it on her lap, folding her arms on top of it. “Then I bet you really would have liked the Halloween costume I was planning,” she managed to say before giggling again.

She soon realized he wasn’t laughing with her, and she glanced to the side. His eyes appeared to be glazed over.

“Fitz?”

“The – the blue one, or the red one when Jafar has her prisoner?”

Jemma broke into more peals of laughter. She was soon joined by Fitz, and it was several more minutes before they calmed down again. Jemma took a deep breath, and Fitz settled back against the couch cushions, and they both stared straight ahead. Jemma could feel the mood in the room start to switch again. All the things she wanted to say and know started to seep back into her mind. Starting with…

“How could you not know it was me?”

Fitz sighed. He picked up the other throw pillow and hugged it to his chest. “I think part of me must have. Or suspected.” He looked over to her, and she tilted her head skeptically. He faced forward again. “Just let me tell myself that, at least.”

Jemma smiled painfully, and then looked down. She scratched her nail along the cuff of her trousers. 

“There were so many signs,” he continued. “And I refused to see them.”

Jemma took a deep breath. “Because…you’d be disappointed?”

He looked at her in surprise, his mouth falling open in a questioning O. 

“Do you like her better than me?” Jemma added in a whisper.

“No,” he asserted, sitting up and twisting to face her. “No, it’s just…with her, there was – no risk. No chance of rejection. She wasn’t real, and she always wanted me, and – and yeah, I kept calling her, even when you – but Jemma, let’s be fair. It’s not like you weren’t giving me plenty of incentive to call her.”

Jemma sighed loudly, tilting her head in acknowledgment. She hesitated and then began to speak. “When I was her, I had no doubt that you wanted… _all_ of me. It made me feel so…I don’t know how to explain it.”

Fitz looked down at his hands in his lap. He swallowed, then inhaled deeply, and given his apologetic attitude, Jemma felt strangely nervous about what he was going to say next. 

“I was so confused. I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t give up either one of you. I couldn’t figure out why she seemed so… Jemma, there was a part of me that didn’t want things with – with her to have to end. I was…having too much fun.”

“Me too,” she confessed.

He looked up in surprise and something resembling relieved hope. Jemma smiled back at him and then bowed her head. “I loved every minute of it, Fitz. Well, almost. Up until the end. It was this – this one positive part of the whole thing, something that kept me going through this _rotten_ experience. It – it gave me something to look forward to. To feel good about, when I didn’t let myself think too much about how it could affect you or what exactly you felt for – for her.” Jemma paused at the little protesting noise he made. “It’s OK, Fitz. I know you felt something for her. But I also know you chose me in the end. And that’s what’s important, because it reminds me that – that I, you know, _me_ , Jemma – I’m desired. And loved. Or – or was, I guess. I am more than what those other men made me.”

She took a deep breath and looked at him again. He was staring back at her with an unreadable, almost heartbreaking expression. 

“We’re both pretty messed up, I guess,” she added, echoing his words from earlier, but trying to soften them with a smile. 

He looked away then, nodding.

“Fitz? Are we going to be OK? Someday?”

He licked his lips and shook his head. “I don’t know.” After a long moment of silence, he said again, “I should go.”

He stood up, and Jemma abruptly jumped to her own feet too. He didn’t look at her as he walked toward the door and she eventually stopped just by the kitchen counter. When he reached the door, though, he paused too. He didn’t move for a long time, and then he turned to face her. They held eye contact for one brief intense moment. And then he was walking towards her again.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and scooped her into a kiss. Jemma felt rather dizzy as she tilted backwards from momentum, and then wrapped her arms around his neck. One extremely passionate, breath-stealing kiss later, he pulled away.

“You are,” he murmured.

Jemma blinked. “What?”

“Desired,” he clarified. “And loved.”

“You still love me?” Jemma breathed out, feeling like her heart stopped.

Fitz nodded, sliding one hand up to her neck. “Of course I do. There is nothing that could make me stop.” He looked her straight in the eyes. “ _You_ are my fantasy.”

And then they were kissing again, Jemma wrapping her arms around his shoulders tightly and pulling him closer, guiding him backwards into the flat again. They stumbled as they blindly felt their way closer to the couch. Just as Fitz’ hands got bold enough to start wandering, Jemma jumped up and hooked her legs around his waist. Fitz made a noise of alarm, losing his balance as he tried to compensate for her weight, and they both toppled onto the couch. If they were any less preoccupied, they probably would have started laughing again. As it was, they just kept kissing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Obviously Fitz will be dressing up as Abu for Halloween)
> 
> OK, break over. Back to real life. I suspect the next chapter won't be posted until early next week.


	16. Chapter 16

Jemma was doing her best impression of a limpet, clinging to him with every limb wrapped around his body, and he was beginning to worry about brain damage from lack of oxygen. It’d almost be worth it, he decided, as he sunk just a little further into her embrace. He had never thought something like this could be possible; indeed, the last few days he had convinced himself that he didn’t still want this.

How wrong he was.

Jemma moaned, breaking their kiss long enough to breathe, but not allowing their lips to separate very far. “Fitz,” she whispered.

He shivered at the sound and closed the distance between them again. His left hand began to roam, almost on its own volition, and soon was skimming over the side of her breast, her waist, her hip. He used it to tug her lower body closer to his, groaning when they made firmer contact and she tilted her hips to press even closer. And then he pushed her away again, sliding his hand to her front and fitting it in the gap between them. He rolled one finger along the seam of her trousers, pressing hard until she made a noise deep in her throat. He moved his hand again, fumbling blindly with the button until it finally popped open, and then he slowly pulled down the zipper. He was just starting to slide his hand between the flaps, his mind going numb at the warmth and wetness hinting at his fingertips. And then she broke the kiss, moved her hands to his shoulders, and pushed him back.

“Fitz,” she gasped.

He just stared at her, rather shocked by the sudden shift in – 

“We have to stop.”

Some sort of strange falling sensation coursed through him as his brain leapt to all sorts of horrible conclusions. It must have shown on his face, because she immediately reached both hands up and placed them against his cheeks.

“We have to slow down,” she clarified.

If anything, that was even more confusing. “ _Huh?_ ”

“I know!” She dropped her hands to her own face, covering her eyes. “I know it’s silly considering… but we need to talk more. And we need – we need to figure out the differences between us and…”

Fitz’ shoulders slumped and he rolled to the side, slipping into the groove between her body and the back of the couch, one arm still trapped beneath her neck. She shifted over to give him more room.

“Them,” he concluded.

After a beat, Jemma asked cautiously, “Fitz?”

He shook his head and looked at her. “Probably a good idea.” After a moment’s hesitation, he added, “I’m kind of worried I might talk a better game than I can deliver.”

“Um…likewise,” Jemma confessed. 

Fitz looked up at the ceiling and exhaled slowly. He felt his breathing drop back down to a normal rate. But other parts of his body were still persistently insisting they continue with their previous actions. He sighed. 

“What are you thinking?” she asked him.

Fitz shrugged. “Kinda wishing Jasmine still worked for SHIELD.”

He sensed her head whip to look at him, and he fought to suppress his smile. “Why?” she demanded.

“She always was happy to get me off when you gave me blue ba – _ow_.” Fitz broke off and began to rub at his ribs. He’d have to remember how pointy her elbows were the next time he considered making an ill-timed joke.

“A lot of the time you gave yourself blue balls there, buddy,” she informed him rather tersely.

Fitz couldn’t stop the laugh then. He turned to face her again, and wrapped his other arm around her waist. They stared into each other’s eyes, and eventually she lifted one hand to run down his cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

Fitz furrowed his brow quickly and then shook his head. “Don’t be. We _should_ wait.”

“No, I – I mean…I’m sorry.”

Fitz inhaled deeply. “I’m sorry too.”

**

Two days later, Fitz had Jemma pushed up against her lab bench, one arm wrapped around her waist and the other buried in her hair. She was sucking on his tongue and groaning and clinging to his arm for dear life. Her other hand rested on his side, splayed along his ribs, every so often curling up and scratching him lightly.

Perhaps she was a bit of a hypocrite, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about whether they were risking contaminating any of her samples. 

Eventually, they broke the kiss, and Jemma buried her head in the crook of Fitz’ neck.

“I should get back to my lab,” he observed in a hesitant, regretful, and very breathless voice.

Jemma nodded. 

Neither of them moved. 

“I think this is my favorite part,” Jemma murmured a few moments later.

Fitz sighed contentedly. “What is?”

“Kissing.” 

She felt Fitz turn to look at her, and she tilted her own head to the side. They could hardly make decent eye contact at this angle, and she mostly got a view up his nose, but she smiled anyway.

“Always kind of skipped over that part, didn’t we?” Fitz responded. 

Jemma nodded, and Fitz bent closer to press his lips to her forehead. 

“I vote we dedicate ourselves to making up for lost opportunities then.”

Jemma nodded again, her grin turning rather lascivious.

**

Jemma glanced up from her computer screen at Fitz and smiled secretly to herself. He was sitting on the other end of the couch, mirroring her own position. Their legs were tangled in the middle, and he was distractedly giving her one hell of a foot rub. Just then, his thumb pressed firmly into her arch; she hissed a bit and then sighed. She wiggled her foot just a little, and he took the hint, doing it again. She thought about flexing her toes just so and…rubbing a part of him that would probably give him the same sort of aching pleasure. But then she chickened out and returned to her computer screen.

She sighed again, this time for a different reason.

“What’s wrong?”

Jemma shrugged. “Just…looking at my budget. I don’t know if I have enough saved to last me through the rest of the summer.”

“When does your assistantship start paying?”

“End of _September_.”

Fitz made a sympathetic but ultimately unhelpful face. Jemma sighed again. “I think I can do it. It will be tight. But I think I can.”

“Well, I’m all for many evenings hanging out at home. I might have a stipend this summer but…I haven’t exactly spent it frugally.”

Jemma snorted, even as she felt a little guilty. “Too bad I didn’t see more of it. I could have paid both of our expenses.”

Fitz tilted his head curiously. “What do you mean – how much of it did you see?”

“Twenty an hour. And it wasn’t like I worked full-time.”

Fitz spluttered. “Twenty? Twenty?! They charged 240 and you got _twenty_?!”

She tilted her head back and laughed at his indignation. Then she shrugged. “Well. There’s overhead, you know. Admins, legal, operators, trainers. Replacement phones when clumsy providers drop their mobiles in the ‘kitchen sink.’” She threw up some air quotes at the end. 

It had been something of a joke, but she felt her body warm up when he shot her a rather sultry look in response. “Is that what happened? I wondered.”

She lifted a hand to her neck and pressed her lips together. And then she forced herself to break eye contact. She looked back at her computer and sighed again.

“I’m not sure I can do it,” she admitted. “Maybe I should see about getting the job back.”

“Jemma,” he responded slowly. She couldn’t quite figure out what he was feeling, but it certainly didn’t sound like he was happy at the prospect. “You hate it.”

“I do,” she agreed. “And I think you’d probably hate it if I went back.”

She saw him struggle for a response, before he finally said, “I would. But I don’t really think it should be up to me.”

Oddly, it made her love him even more. “I suppose I could always call my parents,” she conceded.

“You’d – you would, rather than…?”

“You’re more important than my pride.”

He smiled widely. After a moment, he shook his head. “Your independence is more important than my insecurity. You should do whatever you think is best. I suppose it depends on which one would be a bigger blow to your self-esteem.”

She inhaled deeply, thinking. Then she steeled herself and reached over for her phone. Best to get it over with as soon as possible.

“Hello,” she said when the other end answered. “It’s Jemma. I wanted to talk to you about getting my job back.”

She glanced at him, and he swallowed, before giving her a supportive little nod.

**

“What did you bring for lunch today, Fitz?” Jemma asked.

He turned to look at her, though that was hardly necessary. She was practically on his lap. Not that he was complaining about _that_. He was going to complain about his lunch though.

“Leftovers from that casserole thing.”

She hesitated, and then reminded him, “Fitz, that casserole was hardly edible when it was fresh and hot.”

“Are you making fun of my cooking?” he asked, fighting a smile. 

Truth was, it was disgusting. He had really wanted to make her a cheap but romantic dinner, and it hadn’t gone well. Not the eating dinner part, anyway. The dessert on his couch went very well. 

By dessert, he meant snogging. 

“Not at all. But if you want, I’ll share my sandwich with you instead.”

Fitz could already feel his mouth start to water as she pulled the food out of her bag. Just glancing at it, he knew what it was – prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella, with just a hint of her homemade pesto aioli. Really, next time, he should try to figure out how to get _her_ to offer to make _him_ dinner. She was a much better chef. 

“Yes, please,” he muttered.

He reached out for half the sandwich, and Jemma made a warning noise. 

“Payment first,” she commanded, pointing at her cheek.

Fitz did her one better by placing his hand on her opposite cheek, tilting her face to his, and catching her lips in a short, sweetly chaste kiss. And at that exact moment, Skye dropped her bag down on the table across from them.

“Yegh,” she observed. “You two are disgusting. Why did I ever try to make this happen?”

Jemma snickered and started to turn away. Fitz caught her before she could move too far and kissed her deeper.

Just to gross out Skye, of course.

**

“Well, Jemma, I’m happy you decided to come back with us, at least for several more weeks, but I’m a little surprised. You seemed fairly adamant about quitting.”

Jemma nodded. “Strangely, my landlord is fairly adamant that I pay my rent.”

Ms. Hand chuckled. She reached into her drawer and pulled out several pieces of paper. “Just to be on the safe side, we’ll have you sign new contracts. Standard confidentiality clause and…this.”

“What’s this?” Jemma asked, pulling the sheet closer to read.

“Non-compete clause,” Ms. Hand said. Jemma looked up in surprise. “I didn’t bother before when you quit because you were – but now, that you seem open to the idea again, I want to protect the company. You have quite a few devoted regulars that we’d hate to lose if you decided to go independent. We’ve been burned in the past.”

Jemma struggled for a response, and then finally said, “I’m happy to sign this, but you really don’t have to worry about it. I won’t be going independent, and I won’t be stealing any clients at the end of the summer.”

 _Well_ , Jemma thought to herself. _I’ll be taking just the one._

“Good! And to show our appreciation for that,” Ms. Hand trailed off, tapping at the bottom of the contract.

Jemma spluttered a bit. “Thirty?!”

**

Jemma was laughing rather hysterically by the time she slammed into the brick wall of the library. Fitz hit the wall right next to her, immediately rolling to rest his back against it and trying to catch his breath. They had gone for a walk to take a break from work and had been caught in a freak thunderstorm. Hiding under the roof of the building was as good a place as any to wait it out.

“Ugh,” Jemma whined softly. She held one arm out and tried to wipe the water off it with her other hand. “I’m so _wet_.”

Fitz didn’t respond and she turned to look at him. The grin he was directing towards her could best be described as “shit-eating” and he waggled his eyebrows when they made eye contact.

Jemma snorted in laughter and faced forward again, pulling her hair into a loose ponytail and squeezing the excess water out of it.

“Get your head out of the gutter.”

“It’s a Pavlovian response; I can’t help it.”

“Fitting, since you’re being a total dog.”

Jemma yelped in surprise when his arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her back to him. She stumbled a bit and then leaned into his embrace.

“You love it,” he growled, before catching her earlobe lightly between his teeth and worrying at it. 

Jemma sighed and tilted her head to the side, giving him an unspoken direction which he followed more than eagerly. His lips dropped to her neck, his tongue sneaking out to lick up the raindrops still sliding down and his teeth biting lightly on the stretched muscles. Jemma moaned and lifted her hand to his head.

By the time the rain stopped, she was definitely wetter than she was when they first found the shelter. But she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of telling him that.


	17. Chapter 17

Jemma flipped the page of her new magazine and immediately smirked. The benefit of having Fitz’ chest right behind her was she could feel him chuckle and prepare to speak before he actually did. So she was ready for his comment.

“Kama sutr _ahhh_?”

“These magazines are beyond silly,” Jemma agreed. “But in between all the over-the-top word choices, there are some good sex tips. With pictures and diagrams, even.”

“I’ve noticed,” Fitz observed.

Jemma smirked again. The other benefit of having him right behind her is she could definitely feel how much he had been enjoying helping her research for work. 

“Do you use a lot of the tips?” he asked, sounding curious but a little hesitant.

“You really want to know?”

He shrugged. “Not the details. Just – I didn’t have the typical experience, did I? What’s it – usually like for you?”

Jemma sighed and lowered the magazine into her lap. Now, the unexpected benefit of how they were cuddling was that she didn’t have to look at him for this. 

“There isn’t really a _usually_ or typical, I guess. Some…some guys want me to describe things to them or give them directions. Others want me to follow orders, which I pretend to. Some guys have weird kinks that I’m guessing they can’t get filled elsewhere. Some guys are actually really considerate, kinda oddly professional about it. Some guys just say the most disgusting, misogynistic, violent filth I’ve ever heard. There’s a range.”

They were both silent for a while, and then Jemma smiled. “There was this one guy, he really stood out. He just wanted to talk. Took him ages just to say a couple dirty words. Called a few times before I managed to get an orgasm out of him.”

“Ha ha,” Fitz drawled. Despite his tone, she could sense he was a little embarrassed. And moments later, he confirmed it with his next statement. “I’m not really all that experienced, to be honest. I mean, I’m not – I’ve _had_ – um. But…Jasmine…taught me a lot. About what I like. About how to make sure a woman…you know. About being more comfortable with all – this. Not that you’d be able to tell that now, though, would you?”

Jemma ran her finger back and forth over the page of the magazine. “You should have heard my first couple calls,” she confessed. “What I do, it’s mostly good training and making stuff up. I’m not – I mean, I’ve had boyfriends, you know that. But. If anything, we taught each other. And I’m pretty sure that will be to our advantage when we – when we’re ready to – God, I can’t believe they pay me to talk about this stuff.”

Fitz started laughing. He tightened his arms around her and buried his face against her shoulder. Jemma exhaled and smiled, reaching one hand out to pat at the back of his wrist. 

“Did you know?” Fitz asked suddenly, sitting up again. “Right away, did you know it was me?”

Jemma shook her head. “No. Not until that third time, when we…”

“I remember,” he murmured, and the grin was clear in his voice.

“And you…”

“Called out your name.”

“And lost your accent. It was such a shock, and I actually – I mean, I really was hurt by it later, because I thought you – I thought _you_ knew and were... But in the _moment_ , when I realized that it was you and that you were thinking about me and I was the best friend you were in love with, I…was pleased.”

“Yeah, I could tell.”

“Shut up.”

He paused briefly. “Wait a minute. You didn’t just, like, _spontaneously_ come. You were, I mean, you were…playing along at home. With some random guy you didn’t even know.”

He sounded increasingly upset as he worked through the details of that call, and for a while, Jemma actually felt guilty. And then she furrowed her brow and turned to face him. 

“You really want to go there?”

He immediately paled and shook his head, eyes wide.

“Good. Didn’t think so.”

Jemma huffed and faced forward again. “Besides,” she said. “You had really pissed me off. You had just told me that you’d rather see my clothes on some other woman.”

“ _What?!_ When did I – what?”

She grinned, shaking her head and holding one hand to her face. “I think you were trying to flirt. You weren’t great at it. And I wasn’t great at picking up on it.”

“I’m a great flirter. Not my fault you’re oblivious,” he replied with a scoff.

“OK, sure.”

She could sense Fitz wanting to tease her more, so she took a chance and lifted the magazine up again, turning the page. It paid off when he sucked in a breath. Other parts of him perked up again as well.

“I want to try that. Someday. No rush.”

Jemma lifted the magazine even further and inspected the drawing of two figures joined in a quite tantalizing position. “Hmm. OK.”

Behind her, he gulped. “Really?”

Jemma sat up and twisted to face him again. She gave him a very blatant once-over, ending it with heavy-lidded eyes focused somewhere on his torso. “Sure,” she said. 

Then she faced forward and leaned back against him again. She deliberately dog-eared the page.

“Shit,” he whispered.

**

“This is so disgusting,” Fitz managed to say without actually breathing.

Next to him, Jemma was grimacing. She very carefully removed the dirty nappy and rolled it up. She pressed the tabs closed, silently screaming at how much everything _squished_ under her fingers. As she leaned over to throw it in the bin, Fitz backed out of her way very quickly.

Once the nappy was tossed, Jemma straightened, took a quick and shallow breath, and reminded him, “You didn’t have to come help me baby-sit.”

Fitz was distracted from answering by the little girl’s squealing. She kicked her bare legs around and Jemma moved quickly, hoping to finish cleaning her up before she got any more, well, soiled. 

Eventually, with a joint effort, they got her cleaned, rediapered and back in her onesie. Jemma picked her up off the changing table and led Fitz back to the Coulsons’ living room. They sat down next to each other, maybe a little closer than necessary, and leaned back against the couch.

Jemma propped her feet on the coffee table and moved the baby so she was resting on her knees. Then Jemma started making faces at her, smiling when the baby gurgled in response. Fitz reached out and tickled her belly with one finger. 

“She is really cute,” he observed.

“Who would have thought such a precious little thing could produce something so vile?”

Fitz snickered and nodded. Then he didn’t make any further noise for a while, and Jemma turned to look at him. He was staring at her with an unreadable expression. Jemma blushed and looked away, reaching one hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

She glanced out of the corner of her eyes, and her lips quirked up in a secret, soft smile. “Thinking about putting a baby in me again?”

Fitz groaned, his head falling back. “OK. Stop.”

Jemma chuckled, even as she stood. She walked over to the mat on the floor and placed the little girl underneath the arches of the activity gym. Returning to the couch, she sat down and sidled against Fitz until he put his arm around her. She waited until he relaxed just a bit, and she knew he thought she let it drop.

“That’s a bit unexpected, since it freaked you out so badly, you wanted to stop calling.”

He sighed. “It didn’t freak me out.”

Jemma felt suddenly overwhelmed, like he had turned the tables on her. “What?”

“I’m not saying I’m ready for a baby,” he said, and Jemma sighed in relief. “But – I mean, yeah someday. Someday I’d like a family…with you.”

Jemma took a deep breath. Then she nodded quickly, blinking her eyes even more rapidly. “Yeah. Me too.”

“So, yeah,” he continued, his voice rough. “I didn’t want to stop calling because I was freaked out. It was because – I allowed myself to picture _you_ again during it, and I couldn’t keep denying how very messed up everything had become.”

“When you called Jasmine again, later, after everything,” Jemma nearly whispered. “I almost – I…was very upset. I thought you had chosen – I thought I had lost you.”

Fitz tightened his arm around her, and she could feel him shaking his head. He took a breath. “I had to – this is going to sound absurd, but I had to break up with her first. A lot of the time, I felt like I was cheating on one or both of you, even if I wasn’t really with either one of you. I knew then that you – that I’d never stop dreaming of something more with you. But I couldn’t try for something real without officially ending things.”

Jemma swallowed, took a shaky breath, and then turned to face him. She pulled his head down, preparing to draw him into a kiss. And then the baby started crying. 

They both laughed humorlessly at the interruption. Jemma wiped at her eyes and stood up to go over to her, and Fitz ran his palms down his face with a quiet groan.

“I’m definitely not ready for a baby yet,” Jemma observed.

Fitz nodded in agreement.

**

Fitz’ head was resting on the back of Jemma’s couch, his eyes were squeezed shut, and he was breathing rapidly. She almost felt bad about letting things get this far, when she knew they weren’t going to go much farther. And then she licked up his throat, tongue scraping along his stubble, until she was kissing him again, grinding her crotch down into his lap before lifting herself up on her knees and sinking down. As amazing as this felt, she wondered how much better it’d be when neither of them were wearing clothes. His hands skimmed over her body until they both were cupping and squeezing her bottom, and Jemma almost-subconsciously reached down to twirl small patterns with her fingers just over the bulge in his jeans.

He flipped them suddenly, supporting her with one arm as he lowered her to her back and stretched out on top of her. He pulled her into another dizzying, frantic kiss, his other hand fondling her breast through her shirt while his hips drove into hers again and again.

Jemma broke the kiss with a gasp, letting her head fall back as she tried to catch her breath. She spread her thighs wider and lifted her legs to hook them around his, groaning as the change in position brought him against her at just the right angle.

If they didn’t slow down soon, she was pretty sure they were both going to come in their pants like teenagers. If they didn’t slow down soon, they were going to forget all about their agreement to be entirely sure they were ready for – 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Fitz grunted over and over into the crease between her neck and shoulder. “Jemma, I want you so much.”

“Oh God, Fitz,” she stared up at the ceiling, feeling somewhat stunned. “Please, just…” She reached down, trying to grope at him through the denim. 

He stopped moving entirely once she managed to touch him, shivering in delight and distress as he fought to control himself. God, he was so hard. So… She squeezed him softly, then removed her hand as he started moving again, slowly this time, finding a new rhythm and pace that made her moan but wasn’t going to send them careening off the rails any time soon. 

“This might sound a bit trite,” she rasped out, pausing to lick her lips and swallow. “And I actually _do_ say this to all the guys, but…it’s so big.”

Fitz lifted his head at that, looking at her with a bashful expression and then glancing away in embarrassment. “Um…not really, I don’t think?”

Jemma bit her lip. “Bigger than I’d imagined.”

“I’m not,” he laughed shortly. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered by that.”

“Look,” Jemma said, giggling but also feeling nervous. “All I’m saying is that’s not going anywhere near my arse.”

Fitz suddenly dropped on top of her, his face going back to its little nook by her neck. It took her slightly longer than it maybe should have to realize he was laughing, and then she started laughing too. Several moments later, he finally forced himself up again and looked at her. His face was beet red, from merriment or mortification or both, but he was grinning.

“I can live with that,” he reassured her.

**

Fitz was spending more time staring at Jemma than he was reading his book. She was doing analyses on her research and had the most adorable little crease in her brow as she thought. She was biting her lip and playing with the end of her ponytail and humming a bit to herself and Fitz had never felt more in love. He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out. Moving as stealthily as possible, so as not to accidentally get her attention, he held it up and then snapped a picture.

She looked up in surprise. “What was that?”

“You look really cute,” he informed her. “I needed a picture.”

“I look cute?” she sounded skeptical, looking down at herself. “What am I doing?”

“Being you,” Fitz replied with a grin. “And now I’m going to save this with my other favorite pictures of you.”

“What is that sup – no. No, Fitz, you don’t still have those, do you?”

She moved quickly, twisting to put her laptop on the coffee table, then launching herself towards Fitz. He laughed at her sudden attack, leaning back over the arm of the couch and holding the phone well out of her reach. 

“You bet I do,” he confirmed. “They’re – ”

“Oh my God, delete them,” she demanded, practically kneeing him in the stomach trying to reach his hand.

“Are you kidding? I’m thinking of having them framed.”

“Fitz,” she begged, dropping her head down. “Please.”

The tears in her voice surprised him, and he was struck with a wave of guilt. “OK,” he agreed, bringing his arm down and deleting the pictures immediately. He nudged her a bit until she looked up and he showed her the screen. “There, see? I’m sorry.”

Jemma sighed and let her head fall to his chest again, wrapping her arm around him in a hug. “Thank you.”

Fitz fumbled a bit, moving his book and the phone to the coffee table and sliding down on the couch to hug her better. “Of course,” he murmured. “Are you – ”

“I’ll send you another one sometime. Maybe,” Jemma interrupted suddenly, which only added to his confusion.

“I don’t…” Fitz responded hesitantly. “Why?”

She heaved a breath and then was quiet for a long time. “It’s not that the pictures exist or that you still had them,” she explained. “It’s why I sent them. To – to deceive you. And because I wasn’t sure I would be enough that day just by myself. And because they’re…from her. Of her.”

Fitz didn’t say anything as he thought through her response. It reflected something that was starting to bother him, something that he couldn’t quite put into words but had to try. “Jemma,” he began slowly.

When she finally looked up at him, he found the courage to speak. He shifted to his side, so they were face to face and could look at each other. “The things I liked about her – well, I mean, near-constant and passionate mutual masturbation aside – ”

Jemma breathed out a laugh, ducking her head. He could see the blush on her cheeks.

“Seriously, though,” he forced himself to continue. “The things I liked most about her were the same things that nearly killed me because they reminded me so much of you. They’re the things I see in you and get to experience with you now. Whatever…whatever part of you that was in her, that’s what I was drawn to the most, I think. And whatever part of her that’s in you, I love that just as much as I love the rest of you. We keep – we keep talking about the whole thing like she was an entirely different person. And maybe that’s what you need to do with the other guys. Maybe that’s what we needed to do for a while here, until we figured out what we really were to each other, but…”

He stopped for a moment, thinking again, trying to work through how to say it. She looked at him curiously and a bit warily. 

“I just think,” he finally said. “Maybe we won’t be able to fully figure _us_ out until we accept that Jasmine and Finn are real parts of us. We weren’t pretending the entire time, not even most of the time. Maybe they’re exaggerated parts, maybe parts we won’t always _want_ to bring out, but parts of us nonetheless. I don’t think we should be trying so hard to deny the feelings, the longings, the – I don’t know.”

“Maybe you’re right, Fitz,” Jemma murmured. She blinked once and inhaled deeply. “I’ve been battling with myself for so long, even before you found out, trying to determine how I feel about myself and how I feel about her, who I am and who she is, which one of us you... But that line got so fuzzy. If it ever existed.”

Fitz took a deep breath and pulled her closer. He slid one hand up to her neck and stared her in the eyes. “I want you to be exactly who you are, and I want you to feel safe enough to – to explore anything you want with me. To think or feel or desire anything, even if it’s something you associate with her. You can trust me, OK? With your heart, with your body.”

Fitz paused, watching as Jemma smiled and ran a hand down his chest. He grinned a tad mischievously and added, “With any nude selfies you want to sext me. Really. Feel free.”

She burst into laughter and looked up at him. Then she shook her head. “How’d you get to be so smart?”

Fitz caught her by the chin and forced eye contact. He assumed a really serious expression. “I’ve been reading a lot of Cosmo.”

Jemma groaned and rolled away. “Oh, shut up.”

**

“Wait, wait, wait, wait. Back up.” Bobbi stopped in her tracks and faced Jemma. “You two aren’t sleeping together?!”

Jemma blushed and started walking again. Bobbi hesitated a little longer but, seeing as how her legs were so much longer than Jemma’s, she caught up easily. “No,” Jemma confirmed. “Not yet.”

“Huh. He really _does_ love you.”

“Yes, he does,” Jemma said with a coy smile. She took another bite of her ice cream, scraping it off the spoon with her tongue. “It’s gonna happen soon, though. I know it. I’ve been wearing sexy underwear every day now, just to be ready.”

Bobbi guffawed. “Oh, Jemma,” she finally managed to say.

“What?” She couldn’t maintain the innocent act and smiled rather wickedly to herself. “I excel at preparation.”


	18. Chapter 18

Fitz smiled as broadly as he could when Jemma opened her door, and he held out the flowers in his hand with a flourish to make up for the fact that it was a pretty limp, on-sale-at-the-grocery-store bouquet. He was planning on splurging the last of his summer stipend on dinner though, so he had to cut corners somewhere.

“Fitz!” she seemed genuinely surprised to see him as she reached out for the flowers with one hand and his arm for the other. She pulled him closer and kissed him soundly but quickly. “What are you doing here?”

“Your last shift is officially over,” he reminded her unnecessarily. “So I’m taking you out for dinner to celebrate.”

She looked at him in confusion as she closed the door, and Fitz began to wonder how exactly he had messed up. 

“I still have one more hour,” she said.

Fitz felt his face fall. “You said you were done at 7:00!”

“No,” she disagreed, shaking her head. “Eight.”

“Why did I think 7?” he mused, only somewhat rhetorically.

“Because we both wish I was just done already?” she responded, lifting an eyebrow.

Fitz nodded, then looked at his watch with a sigh. “OK, well. I guess I’ll go home and come back in an hour?”

“Don’t be silly, Fitz! That’s such a waste. Just hang out here.”

He opened and closed his mouth several times. “Um…I don’t really want to be here while you…”

Jemma sighed and nodded. Then she perked up, the figurative lightbulb going on over her head. Fitz felt more than a little apprehensive. 

“We’ll stream something in my bedroom, and if I get a call, I’ll go to the living room, and you can close the door, and we should be fine.”

Fitz wavered. It really was a waste of a trip to go back to his place, and he was more than happy to spend as much time with Jemma as he could, and if he were being entirely honest, the thought of cuddling in her bedroom _on her bed_ was quite tempting, but…

“It hasn’t been really busy tonight,” she argued. “I might not even get another call.”

“OK, fine,” Fitz said. 

Unfortunately, they had barely made it through the opening credits of whatever Jemma picked out to watch and Fitz planned to make out during when her work mobile rang. For the first time that hour. 

They eventually had to give up all pretense of watching a movie (and, sadly, “watching a movie”) due to how busy she was. Fitz had instead pulled _Prisoner of Azkaban_ off her shelf while she used her laptop to do some work in between calls. Closing the door helped a lot, and Fitz also folded a pillow around his ears just to be on the safe side. 

He glanced at the clock as he finished a chapter. Twenty-five minutes to go. 

The door opened, and he breathed a sigh of relief. One more call over. Sitting up, he prepared to greet her only to see her hold one finger to her lips. She was still on the phone, tiptoeing quietly over to the bed and reaching out for her laptop.

Confused, Fitz grabbed it and handed it to her.

And at that moment, Jemma cringed, glancing at him apologetically. “Oh God, yes,” she practically panted. “Fuck me, fuck me so deep.”

Fitz’ eyes went wide in shock and, OK, maybe a little bit in arousal. She pretended to stick a finger down her throat and rolled her eyes, and he forced a smile. Taking the computer, she headed towards the door. 

“Ohhhh, Daniel,” she squealed as she pulled the door shut behind her. It didn’t quite latch closed. “Use your diviner to find my magic temple.”

Fitz fell back onto the bed with a pathetic, mewling sort of whimper. He grabbed the pillow and covered his face with it, trying to muffle his scream. He prepared to stand up, go and close the door the rest of the way, but then she started moaning. Loudly. Gasping for air as she begged for more. 

Fitz rolled onto his side and squeezed his eyes shut. He spent the next several minutes feeling increasingly horrified. And jealous. And horny. 

Finally, the call seemed to be over. He sat up, casually crossing his legs at the ankle and opening the book to a random page. He held it over his crotch so she couldn’t see how she had been affecting him. The door opened and Jemma walked in, sighing. 

“Sorry about that. That guy lasts forever; he must take Viagra or something.” She held up her laptop. “But I got five simulations done!”

Fitz offered her a weak smile and nodded, then stared blindly at the book again. She placed the laptop on the foot of the bed, crawled onto the mattress, and immediately curled up next to him. She wrapped one arm around his waist, and Fitz froze.

“Fifteen more minutes, then we can go to dinner,” she promised. 

Fitz tossed the book aside as he turned to stand up. “I have to use your bathroom,” he declared.

**

Fitz was still in the bathroom when Jemma’s mobile rang _again_. She sighed, grabbed her laptop, and stood.

“This will be the last one; I’ll make sure of it!” she called out as she walked towards the living room. 

She pulled the door shut and hurried the rest of the way to her couch, placing her computer on the coffee table. The phone rang again, and she directed an aggravated noise at it. She bent forward and started another simulation running, and then she finally answered the call.

“Hey there,” she purred. “I’m so ready for you to – ”

“Hi.”

The soft greeting echoed strangely in the apartment, and Jemma whipped around in shock. Fitz was leaning against the doorframe of her bedroom, all casual and sexy. His ankles were crossed and one arm was wrapped loosely around his stomach. His other hand held his phone to his ear, and he stared at Jemma intently, a hint of a smile peeking at his mouth.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, fighting a blush as her pulse began to race.

“Well,” he began, pausing to lick his lips. He didn’t drop his gaze or even blink. “I heard this was your last night, so I figured why not? One last call for old time’s sake.”

Jemma forced a laugh and rolled her eyes. “Stop it; don’t be ridiculous.”

Fitz grinned then. “I kind of like it when you get bossy and mean, I ever tell you that?”

Jemma huffed and faced forward. “I’m going to hang up now, you dork.” 

She pulled the phone from her ear and lifted her other hand to the screen, maybe not moving as quickly as she should be if she wanted her threat to be taken seriously. She heard him speak behind her, and a second, quiet version of his statement from the phone.

“I’ll just call back.”

She turned to face him again, laughing as she spoke. “You can’t be serious.”

Her laughter died out, though, as he continued to stare at her with heat in his eyes. He adjusted the phone slightly so his hand covered his mouth, and he began to murmur something. Jemma, almost unconsciously, lifted her phone to her ear again.

“Don’t you miss this, Jasmine?” he was saying. “Just a little? Don’t you think about this sometimes and wish I called instead of all those other jerks?”

She could feel the flush on her face get redder, but she didn’t know if it was from embarrassment or something else. “Sometimes,” she finally whispered in response. 

“I thought so.”

Jemma laughed again. “Cocky bastard.”

“My parents were married,” he informed her, amusement twinkling in his eyes. Jemma still couldn’t look away. “The other thing’s true, though.”

Jemma shook her head and he raised an eyebrow at her.

“You really want to…?” she asked softly.

His nod was slow and determined, and Jemma felt a flare of heat shoot through her whole body. She inhaled deeply.

“Why don’t you go into your bedroom, Jasmine? Make yourself more comfortable.”

She stood up before she even really knew what she was doing. Her walk over to him was almost predatory, and judging by the expression on his face, he wanted to be caught. But then, when she got closer and reached out for him, he stepped back, plastering himself against the wall and shaking his head. Her brow furrowed but he just nodded in the direction of her bed.

Slightly confused, Jemma walked into her room, stopping by the foot of the bed and turning to face him. He had disappeared. Jemma started to take a step toward the door again when suddenly he came back, holding one of the dining table chairs. She watched curiously as he entered the room fully, placed the chair against the wall opposite the bed and sat down. Then he glanced up at her and nodded again, indicating the mattress.

“What…?” she whispered.

He lifted the phone and spoke into it as he looked at her meaningfully. “Get more comfortable, Jasmine.”

She hesitated for a moment, and then gripped her mobile between her ear and shoulder, freeing both hands to unhook the button of her shorts. She slowly unzipped them, opened the flaps even slower, and then pushed them off her hips in a little striptease, dropping them to the floor. Even as she stepped out of them, she pulled her shirt over her head, unbelievably managing to do it smoothly without dropping the phone at the same time. And finally, she got a little retaliation when she saw the crests of his cheeks and the tips of his ears turn red. 

Almost as red as her knickers and matching bra.

He found his voice eventually, though, and spoke into the phone again. “You’re so sexy, Jasmine. I can’t get over it.”

She crawled onto the bed, trying to arch her back and make it as erotic as possible, even as she felt distinctly silly. There was no way she could have done video. No way. 

“Maybe, Finn,” she said, turning to sit on the bed and look back at him. “Maybe this once, the last time and all, you just – you can call me by my real name.”

A smile flashed across his face, somewhat incongruous with the dark and riveted expression in his eyes. “Sure. What is it?”

“Believe it or not,” she replied, biting her lip so she didn’t giggle. “It’s Jemma.”

“What a weird coincidence. And how about you call me Fitz?”

“Fitz? I like that,” Jemma breathed out. “Much better.”

“Good.” He shifted in the chair, scooting back and pulling at his trousers even as he leaned forward. “Now…tell me exactly what you’re doing to yourself.”

Jemma exhaled slowly, leaning back against the pillows and holding eye contact as long as she could. She lifted her free hand to her neck, running her fingertips softly over the sensitive skin there. “I – I – ” she shook her head and tilted it up to look at him again. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can, darling,” Fitz countered through the phone. “We’ve done this so many times before. Nothing to be embarrassed about, is there? It’s just me and you. You talk some, then I’ll talk some, and we’ll both feel really, really good.”

Jemma nodded rapidly, taking courage from the expression in his eyes, and then leaned back onto her pillows again.

“That’s it,” Fitz said. “Now, tell me how you touch yourself. What does my voice make you do?”

“Oh God,” Jemma whispered, staring up at the ceiling as she lifted her free hand again. “I – start slow. Soft. Run my fingers over my neck so I can feel my pulse.”

“Is it getting faster?”

Jemma nodded, a little whimper her only immediate response. “It’s already racing,” she soon added, before dropping her hand down and skimming her fingers between her breasts. They hooked on her bra a bit and then kept going.

“But I can’t tease for long,” she said, even as she purposely stopped moving when her hand was just below her navel. “I want you too much.”

“God, I want you too,” he groaned.

Jemma lifted her head, trying to catch a glimpse of him. He was staring at her body, unblinking, his free hand gripping the bottom of the chair and his cock straining against his trousers.

“Fitz,” she moaned, flicking her finger up towards her face, and he shook himself, looking up to meet her eyes. She smiled. “Are _you_ comfortable?”

He shook his head, and she raised a teasing eyebrow. Clearing his throat, he finally remembered to answer into the phone. “No. No.”

“What are you waiting for?

She watched, moving her hand down to rest along the inside of her thigh as her hips moved in smooth, tiny, almost automatic thrusts, while he maneuvered to unzip his trousers. With a little hiss, he pushed everything down and off, and then he sat again and brought his phone back up to his ear. 

“Are you hard?” she asked. “Are you touching yourself yet?”

“Yes,” he muttered, bringing his free hand up, spitting in it quickly and then wrapping it around himself with a little squeeze. “Yes.”

Jemma sighed and let her head fall back onto the pillows. Her embarrassment and hesitation from earlier were all but gone, the lust on his face driving them both away. She walked her fingers across her groin until they were directly over her mound and then she switched to rubbing softly.

She bit her lip, let it puff back up, and then spoke, “I’m rubbing myself now, Fitz. Just the lightest amount of pressure, just working myself up slowly. It’s the best kind of torture.”

“Take off your knickers,” he growled in her ear.

Jemma grinned, her back arching and her toes curling as she pressed down harder. “How do you know I still have them on?”

“Take ‘em off, Jemma,” he ordered. 

So she did, letting the mobile drop onto the mattress as she lowered her other hand down to push them off her hips. She contorted, bending her knees up until the knickers were hooked around just one ankle. And then she pushed herself onto her elbows, watching him carefully as she kicked her foot out and the knickers landed in his lap. 

“Sweet fuckin’ – ” he grunted, picking them up. “These are so soft.”

Jemma chuckled. “Wet too, aren’t they?”

He nodded, forgetting again that she wasn’t supposed to be able to see him, and lifted the knickers higher. Her plan to drive him wild backfired suddenly as he pressed them against his mouth, only to pull the fabric away again and lick his lips. Jemma dropped back onto the mattress with a groan.

“Now you, Fitz,” she requested, picking up her mobile again with one hand and dropping the other immediately back down to slide in between the naked, wet folds of skin. She began to rock her hips even faster. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve got hold of myself,” he informed her, his voice getting gruff. “Stroking quickly, can barely hold back. Easing my way with your – you – ”

She forced her head up, moaning when she confirmed what he was trying to say, watching with wide eyes as he slid her knickers up and down his shaft. “Oh God,” she gasped, falling back, eyes closing and breath coming in sharp bursts.

She gave up on her fingers, pressing her whole palm down and squeezing her legs together, planting her feet and bending her knees as she thrust into the air. 

“I can _hear_ how wet you are,” he ground out. 

“Phone doesn’t usually pick that up, huh?” she asked, laughing in breathless delight.

“No, it does not. Jemma, open your legs again. Let me see.”

She whimpered, forcing them apart and telling herself she couldn’t really feel his eyes following her every move. But she could feel her finger as she pushed it inside, and she could certainly hear him swear under his breath in response.

“I’ve got a finger inside of me now, Fitz. Fucking in and out, pretending it’s yours.”

His only response was another barely audible curse.

“You’re making sure I’m ready for you, for your cock. And I am, I’m so ready. Wet and waiting.”

“Not yet, Jemma,” he countered, and Jemma nearly cried out in disappointment. “It’s my turn to tease you. I’m gonna rest the head of my cock on your clit, press against it.”

She nodded, her eyes squeezing shut and a small whine escaping as she switched to her knuckles and slowly tapped their thicker, wider surface against herself.

“And now, slide down, don’t go in yet, just back and forth. I want to coat myself in you, get you all over me, knowing all you want is for me to stop delaying and plunge inside.”

“I do,” Jemma begged. “Oh God, I do. I’m so close. I’m almost there. Oh, Fitz.”

“Me too. I’m gonna – I’m about to – ”

Jemma forced herself up again, staring at him incredulously, imploringly, in desperate annoyance. 

“Then why the hell are you still in that chair?!”


	19. Chapter 19

Fitz had never moved faster in his life. He bolted out of the chair, nearly tripping over his discarded clothes, and tossed his mobile on the foot of the bed. He chucked her knickers over his shoulder, even as he crawled up the mattress to line his body up with Jemma’s. 

Her own mobile clattered off the side of the bed as she reached out and grabbed him, pulling him on top of her, and Fitz made a muffled noise of passion and relief when their lips met. He was possibly even happier when their bodies met, but that didn’t last for long. She pushed him back up again, clawing at the hem of his shirt. He reached down to help her, pulling it over his head in a quick, entirely graceless movement, and then he fell back onto her. 

There was no hope of finding any sort of rhythm at this point; they were both too far gone. Jemma hooked one knee around his hip and opened her legs wide, and he ground down on top of her. They were almost working against each other, her rocking up in forceful thrusts and him moving his hips in tight circles only for them both to switch patterns and directions without warning. 

But it was definitely getting the job done. Fitz broke their kiss, squeezing his eyes shut and swearing, propping himself up on one elbow in an angle that made Jemma dig her nails into his shoulder. His breath hitched, as he relished the slip and slide of their bodies together, the way he kept catching the outer edges of where he wanted to spend more time eventually but certainly wouldn’t last long enough for right now. 

Fitz exhaled harshly, dropping his head down to bury his face just above her breasts. He panted for breath in between slurping kisses onto her skin. And then she brought both hands to his face, pulling him up to her again, pressing her fingers against his cheeks as she breathed roughly, their lips just touching and their teeth clacking together dully. He turned his head, catching her fingers in his mouth and sucking the taste of her off them.

She cried out sharply, her head falling back even as her legs wrapped tighter around him. She pressed up, lifting them both nearly half off the mattress, and he felt her tremble and quake as pleasure overwhelmed her. She fell back down, but Fitz stayed up, propping himself on his knees. He lowered one hand back down, grabbing hold of himself and jacking off quickly, unable to wait any longer. And when her hand joined his, Fitz lost all control, spurting his release onto her belly.

He crashed, with just barely enough sense to flip to the side as he fell so he didn’t land on top of her. Their legs remained intertwined though, and she kept one hand just behind his neck where it got trapped between him and the pillow. She curled her fingers slightly, scratching at the bumps of his spine, and Fitz smiled.

They were both speechless for a while, their heavy breaths the only sounds that filled the room. And then, Fitz rolled closer to her again, hooking one arm beneath his head as he repositioned himself on his side. He looked down at her, a shivery thrill going through him when he saw her fingers languidly swirling in the mess he had left on her. He reached out, twisting his own fingers together with hers as they both rubbed it into her skin.

She sighed when he touched her again, opening her eyes to look at him, and Fitz leaned forward to catch her in another kiss. Eventually they pulled apart, and Fitz buried his head in the dark groove of her neck.

“That was…” he breathed out. “Thank you.”

Her only response was a soft murmur and Fitz felt suddenly nervous. He lifted his head again. “That was OK, wasn’t it?”

She looked at him, grinning. “What do you want?” she asked. “Like, a grade?”

“No,” Fitz responded, blushing slightly. “I just – I know I kind of sprung that on you, when we were supposed to be taking things slow. Were we…ready for that?”

Jemma surprised him by turning to her side and wrapping her arms around him in a hug. She threw a leg over his hips as well, which brought her deliciously close to his cock again; unfortunately, he wasn’t nearly ready to do something about that yet. 

She waited until he made eye contact, and then she nodded. “We were definitely ready for that.”

Fitz smiled, pulled her closer, and kissed her softly. “Good.”

“And,” Jemma moved even closer, bringing her mouth to his ear and sucking briefly on the lobe. “For the record, A-plus. A-plus- _plus_.”

Snickering, Fitz tightened his hold around her and turned his head to nibble at her neck. “You know most of the depraved fantasies I’ve ever had about you,” he reminded her quietly. “That just blew them all out of the water.”

He could feel her grin against his skin, and he hugged her even tighter. They drifted around on their euphoria, quietly enjoying each other’s company, kissing every once in a while, running hands over each other’s skin, and only once breaking apart just enough to scrub at their bodies with the bedsheets. 

Some unknown time passed, and Fitz began to notice changes in their contact – kisses that were becoming a little more heated, hands that were becoming a little bolder, wetter and wetter trails being left behind on his skin as she began pivoting her hips once more, and his own little engineer starting to become interested in the proceedings again. 

And she must have noticed the renewed energy in the room as well, because the next thing he knew, he was on his back, with her straddling him. She pinned him down, grinding on top of him as they kissed, and then she sat up and smiled at him. Fitz was briefly distracted by the feel of her spread out and making a tantalizing wet spot on his stomach as she rotated her hips slowly, and then he was even more distracted by the sight of her breasts just in front of him.

He reached one hand up to cup her, thumbing her nipple through the bra she still wore. Her smile grew wider as she placed her hand over his and dragged it behind her until his fingers rested on the clasp. He squeezed at it, and when nothing happened, he bit out a curse, blushing slightly and half-sitting as he reached his other hand up. She chuckled, lifting her own hands behind her before he could get there, and unhooking the bra. 

Fitz fell back onto the bed, watching slightly awed as she slid the straps off her arms and revealed herself fully to him. He was pretty sure he zoned out a bit. He was even surer he made an embarrassing sort of noise in appreciation. 

“My eyes are up here, Fitz,” she eventually murmured.

“Hmm?” he didn’t look up. “Oh yeah, I know. I’m looking at your boobs. They’re fantastic.”

He heard her laughing and, more delightfully, watched as her breasts jiggled. 

“Seriously,” he continued. “You have the most beautiful breasts.”

Her chest turned a lovely shade of pink as she blushed, and Fitz looked up to see a bashful expression on her face before she broke his gaze. 

“Really?” she asked, insecurities clear in her tone. “You don’t think they’re too…”

Fitz grinned, taking the chance to place his hands on her waist and then slide them up until his fingers skimmed the undersides of her boobs. “I don’t know how you want to end that question,” he responded, “but the answer is always going to be _nope_.”

Jemma looked at herself again and pointed at one of them. “This one’s higher than the other.”

Fitz couldn’t stop his laugh. “So?”

“And they’re just covered in freckles.”

The reminder was like a direct jolt of lust to his cock. “Oh God, I _know_.”

Jemma smiled down at him, bending slightly to support her weight with hands she pressed into the mattress. She began moving her hips again. “You aren’t just saying that?”

Fitz shook his head, sliding his hands up to cup and squeeze her before dropping his hands lower, placing them on her arse, and pushing her ever so slightly down. 

“I’m really not,” he reassured her. “They’re just perfect. Giant snow globe spheres would freak me out. You're obviously well out of my league, anyway. It’s not like I’m an ideal Hollywood specimen.”

Jemma bit her lip, rocking back and forth before returning to the slow, smooth circles. “I think you’re pretty damn hot,” she informed him. “I’d pick you over Ryan Gosling or someone any day.”

He beamed. “I love you a lot, you know that?” 

Jemma nodded. “I love you, Fitz. I can’t believe it took us so long.” She dropped down again, catching him in another passionate kiss. And then she growled her next statement against his lips. “We’re done going slow. Next time you come, you better be inside me.”

Fitz groaned, gritting his jaw and breathing slowly for a moment. Finally, he was in control enough to respond. “Keep moving your hips like that, it’s gonna happen sooner than you might think.” 

Jemma tilted her head to look him in the eye, then scooted backwards just enough for her to make contact with Fitz’ cock, and then she deliberately moved her hips again.

Fitz shook his head, mock-scolding. And then suddenly he flipped her over so he was on top again. “You asked for it.” 

Jemma shrieked with laughter as he planted kisses all over her face. Before he could find her lips again and really work at seducing her, she pulled away. Arching her back to look over her shoulder, she reached one hand up for the bedside table.

“Condom, Fitz. Get a – ”

He kissed her once more, fully and quickly on the mouth, and then dragged his body along her own as he moved up. Reaching out, he managed to snag the drawer handle with his fingers and pulled it open with a sharp tug. He crawled just a little higher so he could see what he was doing – and then immediately smirked.

“Hello, old friend,” he teased.

“Hmm?” Jemma seemed confused, but also entirely distracted by sliding her hands up and down the sides of his torso and then around to squeeze his arse. 

Fitz pulled the vibrator out of the drawer and wiggled it at her in a little wave. She barked out a laugh and turned away from him. Fitz grinned again as he placed it on the surface of the table.

“I’ve got this under control at the moment,” he informed it. “But I want to get to know you better later.”

Jemma laughed harder, and he glanced down at her, instantly amused at the adorable way she held the back of her hand to her mouth to stifle her giggles. He didn’t bother resisting the urge to drop back down and kiss her. Her laughter quickly turned into moans, and when he pulled away she was staring back at him with heavy-lidded eyes.

“We might find some fun uses for that later,” she agreed, “but right now I’m much more interested in what else we can put inside me.”

Fitz exhaled sharply, his vision blurring a bit. “Right,” he muttered. No more teasing.

He moved up again, quickly finding the pack of condoms in the drawer and pulling one out. He tore the wrapper open and tossed it on the floor before hunching over to roll the condom on. Jemma reached out, adding her hand to help, and Fitz trembled. Finally, finally, it was on, and he moved on top of her again. They kissed more passionately than ever, her arms wrapping around his head and her hands digging into his hair. Fitz groaned deep in his chest and reached down blindly, finding the vertex of her legs immediately and beginning to slide his fingers over her clit and down towards her entrance.

Jemma broke the kiss, heaving a breath as she forced him back and caught his attention.

“I appreciate the thought, Fitz, really, but I am _more_ than ready for you,” she said urgently, twisting her hips closer to him as if trying to prove her statement. “We can do romantic and slow next time, I promise.”

Fitz nodded rapidly, eyes open almost as wide as his mouth. He didn’t need to be told twice, though, and he shifted his hand over to his own body. Guiding himself in, he pressed steadily and as carefully as he could, using the expressions on her face to determine when he needed to wait and when she wanted more. Soon he was in as deep as he could go, her calves resting on top of his own and her arms gripping him tightly. He dropped his head down, resting his forehead against her clavicle, and he could hear her unsteady breaths in his ear. His whole body was tense, at least until she lifted one hand and placed it between his shoulder blades.

“It’s a good thing,” he mumbled into her skin, “that I came once earlier, because this would already be over otherwise.”

She laughed loudly, somewhat breathlessly, tightening around him as she did, and Fitz groaned. He backed out just slightly and pushed in again. 

“Yes, Fitz,” she sighed, nodding in encouragement.

She tilted her own hips down, separating from him before rocking closer again. It was the only hint he needed, and before long, they were fucking in earnest, moving together sharp and fast and oh-so-good, the mattress squeaking and the bedframe rocking back and forth and various items bumping and rolling dangerously close to the edge of the side table. He kicked something off the bed with his foot and it landed on the ground with a thump, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was far too busy kissing her.

“Is this – ” he choked out, pulling away from the kiss and finding her eyes. She looked back at him rather dazedly, panting high-pitched little sighs out of her wet lips and generally just being everything he ever wanted. “Are you gonna – do you need – ?”

“What, Fitz?” she asked, her voice rough.

He ducked his head, swallowing, trying to keep some sort of control. “Wanna be on top or – ?”

She shook her head quickly, tightening her embrace around him as if she were afraid he was going to try to move them. She dropped one hand down, pressing firmly against his arse even as she widened her legs to let him in further. 

“Just like this,” she whispered. “Just – right there, don’t stop.”

She pulled him down, and Fitz went willingly, covering his mouth with her own in another passionate kiss. It didn’t last long though; she tore away, her head thrashing a bit to the side. She slid one hand up, digging her fingers into the back of his neck as she clung to him.

“Yes!” she yelped after a particularly strong thrust, and Fitz grinned at the signal that she was close. He changed the direction of his entry slightly, angling his pelvis to apply more pressure and friction to her clit. She nearly shouted then, her back arching up and her head tilting back, her eyes closing in pleasure. “Fuck me,” she demanded, her voice giving out partway through. “Fuck. So deep. Harder, Fitz. More. _More_.”

“That sounds so different when you actually mean it,” he gritted out, but he did exactly as she asked, and soon her nails were scratching into his skin as she went nonverbal. Fitz followed her over the edge almost immediately, grunting something nonsensical as he came.

He lowered himself onto her, wanting as much contact between them as possible, and she obliged by hugging him tighter and turning her head so their cheeks touched. A minute or so of enraptured intimacy later, he reached down and pulled out of her, and then shifted slightly to the side so he wasn’t crushing her. He couldn’t move much farther than that, though, because she maintained a viselike hug around him. He swallowed, licked his lips a couple times, and tried to remember how language worked.

“Thank you,” was the first thing he managed to say.

She started shaking in silent laughter. “Fitz, you don’t have to thank me every time I give you an orgasm.”

He grinned rather wickedly but didn’t bother opening his eyes. “I believe in showing appreciation for good customer service.”

One of her arms lifted off him and slapped back down in a weak smack. He pulled away from her then, rolling onto his back and resting his arm across his forehead with a loud sigh.

“A-plus,” he declared.

“ _Plus_ ,” Jemma added.

Fitz snorted, and they both dissolved into happy, sort of dumbfounded laughter. It was several moments later before Fitz groaned and picked his head up to look towards the foot of the bed. His whole body protested the motion, so he dropped back down.

“I think I kicked something earlier,” he observed, still mostly unconcerned about whatever he might have damaged.

“Mmm, it was probably your phone,” Jemma mumbled in reply.

“Oh. Yeah,” Fitz felt himself drifting off, and then suddenly he froze, drawing in a sharp, terrified breath. “Oh, _shit_!”

If he thought he moved fast before, it was nothing compared to the way he dove across the bed and reached down for the floor. He grabbed the mobile and turned it over to look at the screen. He was pretty sure he had a minor heart attack when he confirmed his fears and realized the call was still going. His shoulders slumped, and he bent one arm to scrub his hand over his face as he ended it and dropped the phone again.

“Fitz?” Jemma asked softly.

He made a small noise of despair in response.

“Is it still – ”

He shook his head, making the noise again before she could say anything more. 

“How long has it been?” she asked in a horrified whisper. 

“I can’t say it out loud.”

He felt completely unable to move, and she was silent for a long time. When she finally spoke again, it sounded oddly like she was fighting laughter again.

“I’ll pay for it,” she told him. “I am _flush_ with cash these days. Not only did I get a 50 percent raise, but my best client this summer kept paying four dollars a minute just to get _me_ off, can you believe it?”

Fitz sighed, lifting his head and staring at the far wall. And then he moved, flipping around and tackling her back to the mattress, ignoring her squeals of mirth as he latched his mouth onto her neck and began to fondle-slash-tickle every part of her body he could reach.

“Change of plans,” he declared, voice muffled by her skin. “You’re buying me dinner tonight. And for at least our next few dates.”

She tilted her head back and laughed loudly. Moments later, she reached down and placed her hands on either side of his face, bringing his head up so he’d look at her.

“Fair enough,” she agreed, a wide smile spreading across her face. “But we’re getting something delivered tonight.”

Fitz felt his heart beat pick up at the implication, and he was pretty sure his pupils dilated. As spent as he had believed himself to be, his dick sent out a message that said something along the lines of _not about to turn down that offer, are we? Just give it a little time really then we’ll be ready for round three oh God yes please maybe even four it might kill us but what a way to go_. 

Fitz concurred with it wholeheartedly.

“Hell yes, we are,” he replied to Jemma, before surging up for another kiss.


	20. Epilogue

Fitz yawned and rubbed at his eyes, then reached down to click forward to the next slide. It was pointless and unnecessarily nerve-wracking to be reviewing his presentation, but it wasn’t like he had anything better to do with his time. The conference was only half over and he was already tired of pretending to be interested in talking to strangers. He had gone straight back to his hotel room and ordered room service that evening, avoiding anyone and everyone who looked like they wanted to invite him out to dinner. 

His mobile rang and he sighed, glancing at it but making no move to answer until the second ring. But when he saw the name on the screen, his whole mood changed and he couldn’t stop his smile.

“Hey,” he answered, his voice soft and intimate.

“Oh, thank _God_ you answered.”

Fitz’ brow furrowed in concern. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes! My fiancé has been away this entire week,” she responded, something strange yet familiar about the breathlessly urgent way she was speaking. “And I’m _sooo_ horny, Finn. You know, you always were my best client…”

Fitz blinked.

Then he closed his laptop and leaned over to place it on the chair next to the bed. He scooted down a bit, smiling as he got more comfortable. He rested his hand on his chest, and his fingers twitched in anticipation. It had been a while since they had done something like this, but Fitz was pretty sure they would remember just what to say and do.

“It’s been too long, Jasmine. Far too long.” She chuckled throatily, and Fitz licked his lips. “I’m actually away from my fiancée this week, too,” he added.

“What a coincidence. I suppose what they don’t know…”

Fitz hummed, his grin growing wider and his fingers sliding farther down his torso. Parts of his body were certainly finding their muscle memory for this, to say the least. 

“Where are you? Your hotel room?”

“Mm-hmm. On the bed. Conveniently.”

“Ugh, no. Push down the bedspread and get a towel to lie on.” Her demeanor had switched from seductive to demanding. And not in a good way.

“Huh?” 

“Do you know how many different horrible – just, come on. Do it.”

Fitz sighed and pulled himself to a seating position. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stood up and walked to the bathroom – slightly awkwardly, considering his body hadn’t got the message they had taken a slight break from the proceedings. Soon enough, though, he was back and pulling the sheets down.

“Are you ready for your presentation?” she asked.

Fitz grinned as he flipped the towel onto the mattress. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

After a snort of laughter, she said, “You know what I meant.”

“Yeah. I am.”

“Good. Then you have plenty of time to talk to me.”

“Plenty of time,” he agreed, holding the mobile to his shoulder so he could undress. “And we’re on the same plan, so unlimited minutes.”

“I hope it doesn’t take that long,” she responded, her voice back to the Jasmine tone. He nearly fell over as he hurriedly crawled back onto the bed. “I really want to get off. Now. A couple times, maybe.”

“Well, Jasmine, let’s see what we can do about that.”

“Let’s, Finn. Let’s.”

**

Fitz blinked several times to clear the stars from his vision, but there wasn’t much he could do about the pitiful sort of wheezing coming out of his chest as he breathed. He remembered almost too late to wipe his hand off on the towel before lifting it to push his hair off his forehead

“Mmm,” he heard from the other end. “I forgot how good you are at that.”

He grinned. “We should do that more often.”

“We really, really should.”

Fitz sighed. “Is it still in you? The vibrator?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Good. Leave it in as long as you can stand it. Pretend it’s me.”

“’Kay.”

After a brief pause, Fitz snickered. “Well, I’m definitely not nervous about my talk anymore. Think I’ll have a good night’s sleep.”

“Hmm,” she responded slyly. “It’s almost like I knew you needed that as much as I did.”

Fitz smiled, his eyes drifting closed. “I love you.”

“Now, now,” she scolded. “Remember, Finn. We need to keep our emotional distance. What would your fiancée think?”

“Oh, right. Her.”

She snorted. After a moment, she coyly asked, “Is it her? Jemma?”

“Mmm. Getting married next month. I’ve never been happier in my life. Strangely thanks to you.”

“Happy to be of service,” she said, and Fitz could hear the smirk in her voice.

“And you’re engaged too?” he asked, trying to turn the tables on her.

“He’s wonderful,” she replied, and Fitz felt his heart swell a bit at the adoration in her voice. “Intelligent, funny, so kind. Romantic…best sex I’ve ever had.”

Fitz’ eyebrows shot up and his smile turned smug. “Yeah?”

“Obviously I had to lock that down.”

“Well…I imagine that’s a team gold medal, if you know what I mean.”

She chuckled and then inhaled sharply. “I’ve gotta take this out,” she murmured. Fitz waited, feeling strangely pleased at the little sigh that soon followed. “Still,” she eventually continued. “Nice to take a trip down memory lane, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” Fitz agreed, stretching out and bending his arm behind his head. He slipped in a little double meaning with his next statement of “I miss you.”

“I was remembering just now,” she said, her voice suddenly sounding a bit nervous. “Something that came up once or twice back then. Something we both maybe were intrigued by.”

Fitz’ eyes opened wider. “Are you talking about...”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Um. Butt stuff?”

“Oh _Finn!_ ” 

Judging by the tone, he suspected that outburst was more in exasperation than arousal. So…no, then. 

“I’m _talking_ about wanting to – wanting to put a baby in me.”

Fitz sat bolt upright, any and all relaxation immediately disappearing as his pulse ratcheted up and he forgot how to breathe. “Are you?”

“No,” she replied with a little giggle. He could almost see her shaking her head. “No. Not _yet_.”

Fitz fell back against the pillows again, not entirely sure if he was relieved or disappointed. “Not _yet_?” he finally asked.

“Did you want to maybe do something about that?”

The grin on his face felt strange, like it was stretching all the muscles in his cheeks beyond their ability to recover. “I do. I really do. I really, really do.”

“Good. I want you to too.”

They were both silent for a beat, and Fitz felt a bit overwhelmed with emotion. He wished they were actually in the same room. He wanted to see her face. He wanted to get started on that plan right away.

“Well, Finn, I’m going to let you go so you can go to sleep,” she said, breaking him out of his thoughts. “But I’m looking forward to next time.”

“Me too.” He paused for effect. “Thank you, Jasmine.”

She sighed, a hint of irritation seeping back in, and he fought a smile. He had never quite broken himself of that particular habit. Maybe because a part of him was still so incredibly grateful she had even bothered to give him a second look.

“You know, Finn,” she eventually said. “Maybe we can negotiate that other thing as a wedding present.”

It took him a minute to realize what she meant, and then another for his brain to reboot and remember how to form words. “I was just – I know that’s not something – you don’t have – ”

“Finn,” she interrupted. “I want to.”

“You _do_?!”

“Of course.” Fitz was pretty sure he just choked on his tongue. Before he could respond, she continued, “I mean, we _are_ talking about me using the vibrator on you, right?”

There was a click and it took him much longer than it should have to realize that she had hung up. It took him even longer to snap himself out of the stupor her last statement had sent him into. He exhaled sharply, still not entirely sure what he was feeling about her suggestion. He did know it had certainly caught his attention. And he probably wasn’t going to have a peaceful night’s sleep after all.

Unless he took matters into his own hands again. 

First, though, he moved his phone in front of him and began to type a message.

_You say something like that and then you hang up?!_

Moments later, the reply came in. _Say what? I don’t understand – we haven’t talked since yesterday morning._

“That little minx,” Fitz muttered. Before he could reply, though, a photo message came in.

He opened it with slightly shaking hands. And then his eyes glazed over. She was holding the camera somewhere around her navel, pointing down. Her other hand cupped over all the parts of her that he most wanted to see, and the vibrator that she had clearly been using during their conversation – the vibrator that she wanted to… – it rested along the inside of her thigh. 

The caption read: _Can’t wait until you come… (home)_

Fitz dropped the mobile on his stomach, groaning as he lifted his hands and scrubbed them over his face. He wondered how expensive it would be to get a flight out immediately after his talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Y’all, I want it on the fricking record that I had planned to make _one_ relatively minor “butt stuff” reference, but the response I got to it was so amusing I had to keep bringing it back in. People, I come from slash fandom. THIS AIN’T NOTHING.)
> 
> OK, but seriously, thanks for reading! This ended up being insanely longer and more plotty than originally intended, but I was having too much fun in this universe.


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